Peace on Earth
by Ponygirl7
Summary: Moonacre Valley is a winter wonderland brimming with joy and hope as Christmas approaches. The addition of Miss Heliotrope's cousin will add a little extra spice to the gingerbread of your beloved tale. Please read, please review, and, as always, please enjoy!
1. A Yuletide Guest

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria Merryweather awoke to a gentle purring. Her hand had fallen over the edge of the bed and was now nuzzled by a soft nose. Without opening her eyes, a sleepy smile spread across Maria's face.

"Morning, Wrolf," she said dreamily. "Just a few more minutes, all right?" And she rolled over with a grunt, savoring the warmth and comfort of her bed. A growl escaped Wrolf's lips. He waited, but his mistress did not budge. Humans. He shook out his lion's mane in aggravation. And in one great leap, he bounded onto the bed, startling Maria by his weight.

"Oh! Wrolf!" she laughed. "I'm awake, I'm awake." She ran her hands through his rich black mane. "I can't very well go back to sleep now, can I? Now what is all the—" she broke off as she gazed out the window. "Oh." She breathed.

Yesterday had been a gray, crisp day, cold and harsh. The forest was sharp and colorless. The leaves had all fallen off the trees months ago, and December's unforgiving winds plagued the valley of Moonacre. But today…

"It's beautiful," Maria whispered. Moonacre had been transformed into a winter wonderland. A glittering blanket of snow draped the ground. Intricate snowflakes kissed the windowpane. Icicles glistened royally as they hung from the slender, graceful trees. Everything was cold and bright and open. "Oh, Wrolf, why didn't you wake me up earlier?" she exclaimed, throwing off her covers. Wrolf jumped down to the floor with a snort of good-humored indignation. "Perhaps we'll have a white Christmas after all!"

The thought spurred Maria on as she dressed, choosing thick clothes and sturdy boots. She hummed fragments of Silent Night and Joy to the World as she braided her copper locks hurriedly. Wrolf had already exited the room, not caring to observe a teenage girl's peculiar dressing rituals.

When at last Maria rushed down to breakfast, she found Miss Heliotrope already seated. "I'm sorry I'm late," Maria apologized, sliding quickly into her seat.

"But Maria my dear, you are not late. Sir Benjamin isn't even here yet," Miss Heliotrope said distractedly, reading some magazine or other. Maria frowned.

"Sir Benjamin isn't at Moonacre. He's on his honeymoon…remember?" She was worried about Miss Heliotrope. Her memory had been faulty lately, and she had seemed distracted during lessons. Maria was starting to suspect something. Was she ill? Was a family member ill? Would Miss Heliotrope have to leave? Her imaginative mind jumped to all manner of fanciful deductions, none of which seemed to be good. But until Miss Heliotrope said anything, it was not Maria's place as a lady to pry.

"Ah. Yes indeed, Maria my dear. Of course, silly me." Miss Heliotrope returned to her reading. Maria cleared her throat. How often had her tutor scolded her for bringing reading material to the table? And was it not time to eat? Indeed, Maria glanced at the grandfather clock, it was past time.

"Marmaduke, I believe we're ready," Maria called out to the chef. "Miss Heliotrope, let us pray." Praying, as it was the most sacred of actions, jolted Miss Heliotrope out of her reverie. So she and Maria prayed. Just as they said Amen, the doors opened and Marmaduke scuttled in, balancing four silver platters.

"A proper Yuletide breakfast," he said proudly. Maria's stomach growled at the savory smells.

"But Marmaduke, it isn't Christmas," she said. "We still have a week yet." The little chef chuckled merrily.

"But surely you cannot oppose the jubilant atmosphere that accompanies the Christmas season."

"No indeed," Maria replied earnestly. "I love it. I only meant—"

"Well then, you cannot object to having a proper Yuletide breakfast then, can you? Enjoy your meal." He bowed, eyes twinkling. Maria sighed and smiled.

"Thank you, Marmaduke." She was more than happy to dig into the juicy ham and the light, fluffy eggs. The steaming broccoli and asparagus were fresh, the toast still warm, and the milk creamy and sweet. Miss Heliotrope barely touched her plate, however. She squinted into her spectacles, reading some kind of magazine. Maria could not quite see what the magazine was, but it must have been fascinating. Still, she wished her tutor would make some effort at conversation. Hm. What would spark Miss Heliotrope's interest? Maria grinned. "Have you seen Digweed today?" Miss Heliotrope looked up sharply, cheeks flushed. Maria had hit her mark.

"Digweed? The servant? No, indeed I have not. Not at all. I do not know where Digweed could be. Digweed the servant." This halting and abrupt denial was followed by a most uncalled for eructation, after which Miss Heliotrope buried her nose back in her book. Maria sighed. It seemed she would have to amuse herself today. She prayed to herself, and was just about to leave when Miss Heliotrope looked up.

"Oh, Maria dear," she said. "Do stay a moment. I want to talk with you." Maria maintained a solemn countenance, choosing to ignore the fact that Miss Heliotrope had just spent an entire breakfast period in silence and she was choosing now to talk. "Thank you, dear. It's about Christmas." She hesitated. Maria nodded.

"Yes. What about it?" she waited. Miss Heliotrope seemed to be having an internal struggle. At last, she met Maria's eyes.

"I have invited a cousin to come and stay with us. She will be coming tomorrow and staying through the holidays." Maria blinked. What short notice! But it was not a great trouble; was that the matter that had been tormenting Miss Heliotrope? Could that be all? If it was, Maria felt sorry for her poor tutor. Likely, Miss Heliotrope had thought she was being inconsiderate in inviting her cousin without asking Maria's consent or opinion. And while it did annoy Maria a little, she would not let on.

"That will be pleasant; I have not yet met one of your relatives. She will be welcome here at Moonacre, I am sure." There. That should put Miss Heliotrope at ease. After a moment of silence, Maria decided she could safely resign from the conversation. She tromped out to the hallway, pulled on her fur coat and hat and leather gloves, and opened the door.

A/N: Beloved reader,

Greetings! Ponygirl7 at your service.

I thank you heartily for reading this first installment of my new story. The title is yet tentative, but I have a fairly solid plan of the plot. Please review! I know that the first chapter does not provide a great deal of information, but I dearly love your feedback and pray I will not disappoint you with the next few chapters. With all that said, I thank you once again for taking the time to read my story.

Your faithful,

Ponygirl7


	2. Tarnished Gold

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

She felt the cold wind assault her rosy cheeks, but it was a sparkling kind of cold, not a cruel cold. She squinted as she closed the door, the bright light reflecting off the snow and into her eyes. Maria found to her delight that the snow was about a foot deep. All her life she had lived in the city, where there was never truly fresh snow. All the carriages had plowed over it, leaving it dirty and slushy. But this snow was pure and untouched. It seemed almost a shame to ruin it by walking through it.

But walk through it Maria did. She meant to go on a walk through the woods. Perhaps she could find Wrolf. Or perhaps Robin was out walking in the woods…

Maria's cheeks were rosy, and not just because of the cold. She had known Robin De Noir for a few months now, and still the butterflies that had fluttered in her stomach had not taken up residency elsewhere. Robin was a clever, saucy lad, but he was truly good-hearted, and for this reason Maria liked him. The fact that he was undeniably handsome didn't hurt, either. But sometimes he seemed too sardonic, as though he took nothing seriously and laughed at everything.

It was for this reason, Maria was afraid to let herself like him too much. He was always pleasant and good-humored around her; there were times she almost believed he liked her as more than a friend. But she didn't dare allow herself to base feelings upon a passing notion. And so it was that she struggled, grappling between discouraging doubt and a dim but dauntless hope.

But Maria ought not to let conflicted feelings get in the way of a perfectly good snowy day! She trudged on through the white fluffiness, soon entering the woods. In the past few months she had come to know the forest fairly well, and now she leapt nimbly over a fallen log. She walked a little way, rather proud of herself for her knowledge of the woods. But everything looked different in the snow. Was it this tree that she usually turned at, or the other? Maria sighed, exhaling a puff of warm air.

"Morning, Princess," a voice above Maria startled her. A cloaked form dropped down from a branch above.

"Robin! What were you—good morning," she replied, remembering Miss Heliotrope's chiding on being a gentlewoman.

"I was just keeping an eye out for some pretty birds. I guess I found one," Robin chuckled. Maria rolled her eyes.

"You are insufferable."

"Oh, I suffer."

"That's not what it means, Robin. Even you must know that."

"What do you mean, 'even me'?"

"Well, you're not the most educated of people, are you?"

"I wouldn't say that."

"I would."

"You did."

"I…wait—what?" Maria frowned. Robin chuckled again, preening his neck feathers. "I'm confused." She said.

"Fancy that. The girl with the tutor is confused because of the boy who is not the most educated of people." He smirked.

"There, you said it yourself." She declared triumphantly.

"Said what?"

"That you're not the most educated of people."

"I most certainly—oh." He grinned sheepishly. "I guess I did." Maria's eyes lit with triumph.

"Say, what do you suppose is happening for Christmas?" she said, changing the subject. He arched his eyebrows.

"You're getting an elephant?"

"No—why in the world would you think that?"

"I don't know."

"Hm. Well, Miss Heliotrope invited one of her friends to come tomorrow and spend the holiday with us."

"Is she nice?"

"I've never met her."

"Oh." Robin frowned, curls framing his face in a most becoming way that made it hard for Maria to focus. "I guess there are plenty of old people to keep her company, with Miss Heliotrope and Digweed and my father." Maria glared at him disapprovingly.

"That's not proper, Robin. You don't address people as 'old', even and especially if they are your elders. And I expect you will be polite to this lady, whatever she is like." He crossed his arms.

"Now look here, Princess, I'm a hunter. I don't wait on little old ladies and bring them tea with cream and sugar and cookies and their little shawl when they're cold. I kill animals and clean their hides and get meat so we don't all starve. I'm not about to go running on errands for some crotchety old lady." Maria wrinkled her brow.

"Well with that attitude, you'll never get a wife," she declared stoutly.

"Who ever said my goal was to have a wife, anyway?" Robin retorted, dark eyes defiant. This shot a pain into Maria's heart, but she squared her jaw and steeled her gaze.

"I never said that was your goal. But you'll have a difficult time of finding a woman willing to marry you if you continue with that selfish mindset."

"I'm not selfish."

"Yes, you are, and egotistical. If I weren't a lady, I'd wager that you wake up every morning, look at yourself in the mirror, and tell yourself that you are the most attractive person on the planet."

"Second only to you," he nodded in confirmation. She opened her prim little mouth to reply; but then she blinked.

"I beg your pardon?" she said, not believing her ears. Robin smirked, readjusting his signature bowler hat.

"You heard me. Now then, Princess, let's not argue. It's a beautiful day, and I want to spend it with you. Come on, I want to show you something," he held out his hand as an invitation. Maria hesitated. His dark eyes pleaded like a puppy's. She sighed.

"Well, don't think you won this argument," she relented, sliding her small gloved hand into his rough, bare one.

"The thought never crossed my mind," he replied stolidly. Maria raised a dubious eyebrow. "Well, it may have crossed my mind, but it didn't stay to chat," he grinned.

"Oh, nevermind. Show me what you wanted to show me," Maria said, rolling her eyes bemusedly. Robin was such a funny boy. And she knew that, despite all his bravado, he would be courteous to Miss Heliotrope's cousin. For underneath all those black leather jackets beat a heart of gold. Tarnished gold, but gold nonetheless.

A/N: My dear reader,

Firstly, thank you for reading thus far! I admit, I did not progress as far as I had hoped in this chapter, but I do try to keep the chapters similar in length. A sincere thank you to those who have already reviewed; you cannot know how your words warm my heart. Please, if you have any questions, concerns, comments, or suggestions for other Moonacre stories, I implore you, leave a review! I cannot say when my next chapter will be posted, by I can assure you that it shall be relatively soon. Thank you so much for your support!

Love always,

Ponygirl7 :)


	3. Pride Before the Fall

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria followed Robin, dodging through trees and under low-hanging branches. Maria admired the way the curving pine boughs cradled the snow, almost like a mother's arms. But Maria could not marvel long, for Robin was a quick mover. Now they reached a steep slope.

"Watch your footing here," Robin said. "It can be slick with the snow and the frozen ground." Maria's nose was cherry red from the cold, but she stuck it out impudently.

"You worry about yourself, Bird Boy." He chuckled, as though she were a child and had said something adorably ignorant.

"I'm as sure-footed as a mountain goat," he said, puffing his chest out. Maria pursed her lips, but said nothing. So Robin began to lead the way down. Maria followed in his footsteps, choosing her path carefully. But Robin was reckless and, in an endeavor to demonstrate his masterful sure-footedness, he took long, hasty strides. This recklessness was his downfall—literally.

His foot slipped out from beneath him. He flew up into the air, landing solidly upon his behind and tumbling roughly down the remainder of the hill. Grunts of discomfort met Maria's ears. At last he reached the bottom with a groan.

"Now Robin," Maria called out, trying to keep a solemn face, "I do not know very much about mountain goats, but I am fairly certain that—"

"Oh, lay off, will you?" he moaned in irritation. "That was not as easy as it looked."

"Indeed," Maria smiled, putting one foot daintily in front of the other. She stooped to retrieve the bowler hat that had fallen from Robin's head, chuckling to herself. Robin lie still in the soft snow, gathering his wits. Finally, Maria made her way to the bottom of the slope.

"Ready?" she asked, crossing her arms. He grunted.

"Give me a minute." She sighed.

"So, what is this you want to show me?" His lips curled up a little at the ends.

"Oh, you'll like it. Don't worry."

"Well at this rate I'm not sure we'll ever get there. Perhaps I'd better go back home. I'm sure I ought to clean the manor in preparation for Miss Heliotrope's cousin." Robin's smile slid into a frown, and he rose to his feet.

"No, stay with me. You haven't even seen it yet."

"Oh, I don't know. The guest room needs to be seen to, and—"

"Please?" Robin begged. His disheveled curls had snowflakes glistening in them and his breeches were damp from his landing, a sorry sight indeed. Maria feigned uncertainty.

"Well, I…"

"Be a dear, won't you, Princess?"

"I suppose." She relented. It was better that she not seem too eager. She had to make him think that he won her over. Otherwise he would take her for granted.

"Good!" he said. "And, ah…may I have my hat?"

"Oh, no, I'm keeping it," she declared, handing him her black fur pillbox hat instead. He looked at it a moment before shrugging and setting it on his head. Maria giggled. "Robin, you should see yourself," she said.

"I think it's a good thing I can't," he replied ruefully. "Now then, shall we?" he held out his hand.

"We shall," she assented, taking his hand. So they began to walk on. Presently Robin asked,

"You wouldn't really have gone back to clean the manor, would you?" Maria looked at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled.

"And miss the chance to spend time with you? Never!" He grinned.

"I knew it. No one can turn down my charm."

"Oh, is that what you call it?" Maria's eyebrows disappeared under the bowler hat.

"It is known by many names," he began with an air of superiority, "charm, wit, appeal, charisma—"

"Pride, arrogance, superciliousness—"

"Super what?" Robin echoed in bewilderment. Maria laughed at his simplicity. Now who was superior?

"It means egotism. Like, the world revolves around you."

"And doesn't it?"

"No, the world revolves around the sun and rotates on its axis," Maria said, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you ever had a science lesson?"

"Aren't you on Christmas vacation from your lessons?" Robin returned the question with a question.

"Yes. Your point?"

"Maybe you could take a break from being smart. Let the knowledge just slip your mind for a while." Maria cleared her throat.

"Oh, like you slipped down that slope, you 'sure-footed mountain goat'?" Robin opened his mouth to protest, but he only sighed.

"Touché," he replied. "Let's change the subject."

"Very well," Maria consented. "When will we reach whatever you wanted to show me?" Robin studied their surroundings.

"Soon. Don't you worry your pretty little head."

"Oh, my head's not the pretty one right now. It's yours." She tapped the elegant fur hat he wore. He grimaced.

"Don't remind me. This is temporary, mind you. Actually," he ran a hand over the fur. "It's pretty warm. How's mine working out for you?"

"Quite well, thank you. Very warm. But, ah," she grinned as the rim tipped down over her eyes. "It's just a little large."

"Well, what did you expect? I have a big head."

"Indeed you do," Maria agreed heartily, laughing. After a moment, Robin's face reddened.

"Oh." He said, sighing. "I guess I walked right into that one." Maria's giggles subsided.

"Yes, you did. But there now, I won't tease you anymore. At least, not for the present. Let's be serious a moment; or at least, less senseless, if that is possible for us. I'm concerned."

"All right. What do you want to talk about?"

"Oh, anything. Christmas."

"All right. What do you like about Christmas?"

"What do I like about Christmas? Hm. What don't I like about Christmas? This will be the first time in a long while I've been surrounded by friends and family for Christmas. I love the snow," she kicked up a tuft of snow, "And the laughter. The presents and the tree with its candles flickering, the delicious meal, the joyful hymns, the quiet peace. Yes, the quiet peace you have when you are with those you love. I think that's one of my favorite parts. Don't you?" Robin, who had been so lost in her bright eyes, was now jolted out of his daze. He smiled a little.

"Yes, I do," he said. "I do. Oh, here we are. Close your eyes."

"What?"

"I want it to be a surprise. Close your eyes." Robin ordered. Maria reluctantly closed her eyes.

"You're not going to play any tricks on me, are you?"

"No. That is, not right now. All right, hold on to my hand and keep walking." He led her through a grove of pine trees. "No peeking," he scolded.

"I'm not," she said truthfully.

"All right. You can look now," Robin's voice said. Maria opened her eyes and blinked. Slowly, a smile spread across her face as she drank in the scene.

"Oh, Robin!"

A/N: My dear reader,

Thank you so very much for reading this next chapter! I do hope you've enjoyed it. I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your encouraging reviews. You cannot know what your words mean to me. I remain

Yours truly,

Ponygirl7


	4. Never a Dull Moment

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria gaped in wonder at the scene that sprawled out before her. It was something she had only ever dreamed about. A small pond sat serenely, tall dark pine trees flaring out at its edges. The cold bright sunrays kissed the treetops. Glittering icicles hung suspended from the branches, dangerously beautiful. The snow provided a soft mantle on the ground. The pond itself was frozen over, a glassy, radiant ice, a perfect mirror of the pines. It was all so still, like a life size painting. Maria exhaled shakily. She had never before seen such a breathtaking scene.

"What do you think?" Robin smiled. She averted her gaze to meet his.

"It's…it's…" she was at a loss for words.

"That bad, huh?" he said drily. She shoved him affectionately.

"It's beautiful, and you know it."

"Have you ever ice skated?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ice skated."

"No."

"Would you like to?"

"Robin, I don't have skates."

"You don't need them."

"Hm?" Maria tilted back her head, looking up at him. He smiled down at her—but then the bowler hat slid down over her eyes. Robin chuckled and tipped it up.

"Anyone home?" he asked.

"Very funny. Oh, go ahead and take your hat. It doesn't fit me anyway." Robin took off the pillbox hat.

"I thought you'd never say that. Your hat is too fancy for me, anyway." He tossed the offending accessory off to the side. Maria began to give him his hat, but then she stopped.

"Fix your hair first," she ordered.

"What's wrong with my hair?" he demanded.

"It's out of sorts. Just kind of…" she pantomimed brushing his hair one way. He brushed it the other way. "No, not like…" she sighed. "Oh, just let me do it." She ran her fingers through his unruly curls, trying not to meet his eyes. His hair was soft in her fingers. "There," she whispered.

"Thanks," his voice was husky. Maria blinked slowly, and for the briefest moment allowed herself to look at his eyes. They were a deep liquid brown, warm and familiar.

No.

Maria stepped back. She should not have done that.

"So," she said, clearing her voice, "how does one ice skate?" He chuckled.

"If you'd give me my hat, I'd tell you." Blushing, Maria handed him his hat. He settled it in its rightful place atop his curls. "There. Now, all you have to do is slide on the ice. It's that simple. But you have to keep your balance."

"What if you fall through the ice?" Maria's lower lip trembled. "Is it strong enough to support us?" Robin waved her concerns aside.

"It's strong. Don't worry about that. Do you want to try?" Maria studied the pond. It was so beautiful…

"Yes," she decided.

"Good! Now then, follow me." He took one step out onto the ice. Nothing happened. Maria stared at his feet. He was standing on the ice. She had never stood on ice before. This was so foreign. Robin held out his hand. "Here, hold on to me. Careful with your first step." Maria gripped his hand and placed one foot down on the ice. "There, see? Nothing to be afraid of." He said. So she brought her other foot down—but she was not prepared for the slickness.

"Oh!" She almost fell, but Robin caught her and held her up.

"There you go, Princess. I told you, the first step is the hardest. Can you stand?" She steadied herself, still clutching his arm.

"Y-yes. Yes, I can. Robin, I'm standing on ice!" she almost squealed in delight. What a delightful, singular sensation!

"Yes you are. Now, can you slide?" He began to slide away from her, but she held on to him.

"Wait, don't leave me yet. Remember, I'm a beginner." She shifted her weight uneasily.

"All right. That's good. Move around a little bit. Just like that. Now take one baby step." She slid her foot just a little bit. "Good! There, see? Nothing to it." Maria slid a little bit more. It was a strange kind of gliding, smooth like wearing a silk dress. Robin dropped her hand and slid off by himself, weaving intricately with his feet. Maria watched spellbound. Robin was almost…graceful. As he looped back around toward her, she laughed.

"What?" he said defensively.

"Nothing. I just…you never seemed the graceful type."

"I can dance well, too, you know."

"How would I know that?" Maria returned. Robin considered.

"I don't suppose you would. We should have a Christmas ball."

"Yes, we should. I can dance pretty well. But this…" Maria threw up her hands. "I'll never be able to do what you can do." Robin grinned encouragingly.

"Sure you will! Here, let me show you." And so he began to teach her how to maneuver on the ice. As it happened, he was not a half bad teacher. Maria couldn't ignore their closeness as he guided her along. Neither could she deny that she enjoyed it. Soon she was able to float across the ice rather well. It was a sort of flying, as though her feet had wings. She sped forward, vision blurring as she gained momentum.

All of a sudden, she ran into something solid.

"Oof!"

"Oh!" Maria slammed into Robin with force, knocking them both to the ice. For a moment, all was quiet. Then they began laughing.

Then they heard a crack.

They inhaled sharply.

"Off. Now." Robin's voice was low and grave. Maria knew what it meant. The ice had cracked. She struggled to get to her feet, and Robin leapt to his. In her panic, Maria could see the fractures in the pond growing, spreading underneath her. Robin seized her hand and dragged her away just as the ice broke. He gathered her up as though she were a child and darted off across the pond, the cracks following him rapidly. At last he leapt for the bank, Maria in tow.

They landed in the snowbank safely. A collective sigh of relief escaped their lips. Maria tried to roll over, but something heavy was on top of her. Feathers tickled her neck.

"Robin. Robin, let me up."

"Sorry, Princess," he rolled onto his side, brows furrowed apologetically. "I'm really sorry. The pond is usually frozen solid. I should have waited. I was so excited to show you, and I—"

"Robin," she broke in, sitting up in the snow.

"No, really, Princess, I am sorry, and—"

"Robin. It's all right." She smiled. "You saved me." He cocked his head.

"Huh. I guess I did."

"Yes, you did. We're both safe." She sighed. "But I should probably head home. I've had enough excitement for one day." Her eyes glinted with amusement.

"I suppose you're right. I'll walk you home."

"I'd like that." They rose to their feet and Maria picked up her hat. So they began to walk, cheeks pink and smiles dazzling. Somehow, Robin's hand found its way into Maria's. But she didn't mind. What an exciting morning it had been! Of course, there never was a dull moment she was with Robin De Noir. No indeed…

A/N: Beloved reader,

Thank you for reading this fourth chapter of Peace on Earth! I hope you've had as much fun reading it as I had writing it! I thank you so very much for your reviews. It truly encourages me to know that there are at least a few people who take the time to read these little stories I love to write. May you have a blessed day!

Your faithful

Ponygirl7 :)


	5. Nigh Unto Scandalous

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Robin escorted Maria to the edge of the woods, where the forest met the manor grounds.

"You could come in and visit with Miss Heliotrope," Maria invited him. Robin raised an eyebrow.

"And talk about what? Digweed and darning socks? I think this is as far as I go." Maria pursed her lips.

"All right. Well, thank you for the most fun I've had in a while. I never knew snow and ice could be so exciting!" Robin smirked.

"Everything's exciting with Robin De Noir."

"I can't deny it," she acknowledged. "Will you come and see me tomorrow?" She didn't want to sound too eager to see him again, even though she was. He shrugged noncommittally.

"I guess." Maria's heart sank. He didn't seem too excited. "Will your tutor's cousin be there?" His words brought the lady in question back to Maria's memory.

"Oh. I don't know. Probably. Say, if you brought your father over for a visit, they might excuse us so that the grownups can talk. Then we could do whatever we wanted with no fear of being disrupted." Robin's eyes glinted.

"Clever girl. I just might do that." Maria couldn't suppress her smile.

"Good." She hesitated, not wanting to go. "I'll see you tomorrow, then." Robin bowed in mock gallantry.

"Until then, O Princess. I bid thee farewell." She laughed.

"Goodbye, Robin." He grinned and turned on his heel, bounding through the snow with the agility of a fox. Maria watched him until he was nothing more than a dark spot in the brilliant snow. She sighed a dreamy schoolgirl sigh. But this was the only indulgence she allowed herself, forcing herself to dwell on other things than Robin's roguish smile. She would have to clean, no doubt. But cleaning was not disagreeable, and so Maria would enjoy the rest of her day.

Miss Heliotrope, after putting Maria to work in the guest bedroom, went into the piano room to straighten up. She had just set to rearranging the flower vases when she heard footsteps behind her. Miss Heliotrope was not young anymore, but she recognized with a flutter the heavy, timid step.

"Digweed," she said, spinning around. Oh, she hoped her cheeks weren't flushed! How embarrassing!

"Miss Heliotrope," he bowed respectfully.

"I am…that is, I was just arranging these tulips." Digweed looked behind her at the table. A little smile alighted on his humble face.

"That'll be the crocuses, then." Miss Heliotrope blinked from behind her spectacles.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Crocuses. They look similar to tulips, but take a look at the leaves. They're narrow. The tulips' leaves are fuller and softer." Miss Heliotrope cocked her head a little.

"How came a servant to know so much of flowers?" she asked. Digweed shifted his weight. Miss Heliotrope immediately bit back the words; she should not have referred to him as a servant, even though he was. But she was trying to…well, what was she trying to do? She didn't know, herself.

"I garden. Often. Before you came, Master Benjamin would have nothing to do with flowers. Not after Loveday…well, I am glad they sorted things out. I kept the lawns, still do. I enjoy beautiful things," he dropped his gaze, only sneaking a glance up at Miss Heliotrope, who blushed crimson.

"Oh. Well, I…I see." She cleared her throat. "Would you like to help me? No doubt you have an eye for arranging flowers." She hoped he would say yes. She wasn't sure what to do, where to look, just standing there with him.

"But of course," he said affably. "Anything that will help you." And so he joined her in her work, handling the blooms with such care and gentleness that Miss Heliotrope couldn't help admiring him. Ah, but this was the trouble!

You see, Miss Heliotrope was a well-bred lady. Anyone with two eyes could see that. She was decorous and composed and accomplished. Neither was she a poor looking woman. And Digweed, though he was shy and bumbling, had a good heart. He treated everyone with respect and patience. It was rather his bashful clumsiness that endeared him to Miss Heliotrope.

But the trouble was this: well-bred ladies did not fall in love with servants. It simply wasn't done. And this was the thorn that pierced Miss Heliotrope's heart. When she was with Digweed, all sense and composure flew out the window. Everything seemed rosy and simple. She was an educated woman and lived by the rules of etiquette, prim and proper. But when she was with Digweed, his simple contentment placated her. It made all the rules, all the requirements fade away into the background, leaving a quiet peace.

But what would the townsfolk say if they heard? It was nigh unto scandalous, a respectable tutor in love with a lowly servant. Miss Heliotrope was torn, and she could not make up her mind. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. She needed someone to advise her.

It was for this reason that she had invited her dear cousin. Cousin Lillian was sensible and sweet. Miss Heliotrope knew that Cousin Lillian would be able to advise her in the right path. She had wanted to see her cousin for some time now, and Christmas was the opportune time.

Digweed's fingers grazed Miss Heliotrope's as he slid a vase over. Tingles shot up the tutor's hands. Yes, the sooner Cousin Lillian could get here, the better.

A/N: My cherished reader,

Once more, I thank you for reading this next chapter of Peace on Earth. Now we have discovered for what reason dear Cousin Lillian was really called to Moonacre! I'm doing my best with Digweed's character, although I'm afraid his dialogue is not what it should be. I also apologize for the relative briefness of this chapter; I came to a good stopping point, and so I seized the opportune moment. Oh well. Thank you, BJ, for your continued support and reviews! I love to read your feedback, and I am glad you are enjoying this so far!

As always,

Ponygirl7


	6. Dear Cousin Lillian

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria was just descending the staircase when she heard a knock at the door. Miss Heliotrope hurried out from the dining room.

"Dear me, that's her! Oh, Maria. My cousin Lillian is here. Be a good hostess and greet her with me." Maria smiled bravely, bracing herself for whatever kind of cousin this Lillian was. They neared the door, inhaled deeply, and swung the door open.

"Jane! Oh, how good it is to see you!" Cousin Lillian slid her slender arms around Miss Heliotrope in a gentle embrace. "Ah, but how I've missed you!" She stood back, smiling kindly at Maria. "You must be Miss Maria Merriweather! A pleasure to meet you." She curtsied gracefully, and Maria returned the gesture.

"Come on in, Lillian," Miss Heliotrope welcomed her a bit formally. "Let us show you to your room. We can help you with your bags, can't we, Maria?" Ordinarily, Maria would have been irritated by Miss Heliotrope's bossiness. But Lillian's good-naturedness offset the trouble.

"Oh, I'm sorry to be a burden. I tried to pack light. I had no idea what kind of a place this would be," she looked around. "What a beautiful manor! I've never seen its equal." They began to walk down to the guest room.

"Thank you," Maria said. "It has been in my family for years. My uncle is on his honeymoon; I am sorry he could not be here to welcome you." Lillian laughed a silvery laugh.

"You need not apologize. I could hardly expect him to be here during his honeymoon! Who is the lucky girl?" Maria ushered them into the guest bedroom.

"Her name is Loveday De Noir."

"My, what a name! It is almost magical. Loveday De Noir." Lillian's eyes were distant. She seemed unlike Miss Heliotrope in that she was more of a dreamer, a wistful smiler. Maria liked her.

"Excuse me while I fetch some flowers for your room. Maria, keep Lillian company, please." Miss Heliotrope scuttled out of the room. Lillian sat down upon the bed. She looked a little younger than Miss Heliotrope, and indeed her expressions were youthful.

"So, tell me about Loveday De Noir. Does she live around here?" Maria chuckled.

"Yes; that is…oh dear. I'd better explain this all to you. Where to begin? Well, yes, the De Noir Village is within the forest that encompasses the manor grounds. Together, our two families, the Merriweathers and the De Noirs, make up Moonacre Valley." She paused. Lillian nodded in comprehension. Maria sat down beside her on the bed. This would take a little while. "Our families have lived here for centuries. And long, long ago…"

She proceeded to tell the legend of the pearls and how the feud had originated. She went on to describe her arrival at Moonacre and how, at last, the feud had been resolved.

"That was only a few months ago," Maria said finally. "And all has been well since."

"That explains the lion I saw when I arrived," Lillian said, a little grin dancing around her lips. "I almost thought I was imagining it; I'd never heard of a black lion. But Wrolf sounds like a good creature." Maria nodded.

"He is."

"And you said Robert and Coeur De Noir are on good terms now?"

"Robin, yes. In fact," Maria's eyes twinkled, "You ought to meet them in a little while. Robin said he would bring his father to meet you." Lillian's eyebrows popped up.

"Oh! I would be delighted to meet them. Will Rob—Robin's mother come, also?" Maria bit her lip.

"Robin's mother…she died years ago." Lillian put a hand over her heart, eyes wide.

"Gracious, I'm sorry! I didn't know." Maria waved it off.

"You couldn't have known. Anyway, it is all right. Both Robin and his father have made peace with it. They loved her, and she is gone. But they honor her memory and all is well." Lillian nodded. She looked as though she would have said something, but Miss Heliotrope came bustling through the door.

"Here we are; I found some fresh flowers for you. Well, the gardener helped a little." She set a vase of lilies on the bureau.

"How kind!" Lillian exclaimed. "She must be a helpful woman." Miss Heliotrope frowned.

"Who?"

"Why, the gardener." Maria burst out laughing, but at Miss Heliotrope's sharp glare she stopped. It was not ladylike to burst out laughing.

"Oh, Lillian, no," Maria sobered, "The gardener is a man. Digweed. And he—"

"Maria, dear," Miss Heliotrope interrupted, "Would you like to go and check with Marmaduke to see if breakfast is ready? No doubt Lillian will want to eat soon." Maria would have liked to stay and talk, but she only nodded, dropped a curtsy, and exited.

Lillian turned to Miss Heliotrope, a question etched in her face.

"Why, Jane, your cheeks are pink. Is something the matter?" Miss Heliotrope sighed wearily.

"Not—not really. Yes. I—I'm not sure." Lillian patted the bed.

"Come and have a seat. Tell me all about it."

And so Miss Heliotrope, in a faltering tone, explained about Digweed.

Meanwhile, Maria had been informed by Marmaduke that unless they ate very soon, breakfast would be cold. She began heading back to the guest room when she heard a knock at the door. A smile alighted on her face, and she skipped gaily over to answer the door.

"Good morning," she beamed.

"Morning, Princess." Robin grinned.

"Good morning, Maria." Coeur De Noir bowed.

"You're just in time. Come and join us for breakfast! Go on in to the dining room; I'm going to fetch Miss Heliotrope and her cousin." Coeur De Noir brushed past them to the dining room. Robin drew Maria aside.

"Is she nice?" he asked. Maria bobbed her head enthusiastically.

"She is ever so much nicer than I imagined! She is kind and gentle and—oh, well you'll meet her in a minute. Let me go and get her. You get settled in the dining room." And so Robin obediently followed his father to the food while Maria speed-walked (for a lady cannot run) down to retrieve Miss Heliotrope and Lillian.

A/N: Dear reader,

Here I must stop. I apologize for the rather abrupt ending, but I do try to keep the chapter lengths similar. Hopefully the next chapter will perhaps enlighten you a bit. Thank you for reading this chapter and for your encouraging reviews! They really do make my day. Happy reading!

Your devoted

Ponygirl7


	7. Music: Poetry of the Air

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria led Lillian into the dining room as Miss Heliotrope brought up the rear. The two gentlemen (if Robin can be classified as such) rose from their seats out of courtesy.

"Good morning," Lillian smiled. "I am Lillian Heliotrope, Jane's cousin." As she shook Coeur De Noir's hand, Robin's face screwed up in surprise. Maria realized that he had never heard Miss Heliotrope's Christian name. She shot him a look, and his expression returned to normal. He shook Lillian's hand as well, and they all sat down to eat. Maria sat by Robin on one side of the table while the adults were on the other side, Miss Heliotrope in the middle. After a prayer they began to eat Marmaduke's exquisite breakfast.

"Maria has told me about the…curse," Lillian said. "It is truly incredibly how you all managed to resolve it." Coeur De Noir cleared his throat.

"Nobody deserves more credit than Maria. She was the one who jumped off the cliff. She convinced Sir Benjamin and me to put aside our differences."

"Oh, anybody could've done that." Robin teased, forking a large bite of sausage into his mouth. Maria slapped his arm.

"No, your father is right. I think she was very brave." Lillian said. Robin grinned.

"I know. I can say that kind of stuff because she knows I'm joking." Maria's brows wrinkled a little.

"Do I, though?" Her voice was so quiet only the sharpest of hunter's ears could have caught it. Robin frowned. But the adults prattled on, unaware.

"I hear you enjoy hunting," Lillian leaned forward, directing her words toward Coeur De Noir.

"I do. But I'm getting old and stiff. The young ones are out in the woods more than I." Lillian cocked her head.

"I am sorry to hear that. If I could not play the piano, I don't know what I'd do." Coeur De Noir's moustache lifted as he smiled.

"You play the piano?"

"Yes, a little."

"Fiddlesticks," Miss Heliotrope broke in. "Lillian is the most talented pianist you have ever heard." Coeur De Noir took a sip of milk, setting his glass down in slight embarrassment.

"I'm afraid I haven't exactly heard anyone play the piano." Lillian put a hand to her heart in disbelief.

"Never heard the piano? But sir, how do you live?"

"Oh, I manage," his eyes twinkled. "I have a son to make sure life is never dull."

"I'm sure your life isn't dull by any means," Lillian admitted. "But no piano music…to me, it is inconceivable."

"You will have to play for him then, won't you, Cousin Dear?" Miss Heliotrope said, a tentative smile playing around her lips. Maria caught something in her tone…something foreign. She had never heard that before. She eyed her tutor curiously. Miss Heliotrope's eyes were merry. Hm.

"I suppose so…that is, if he would like." Lillian said. She was the good kind of talented person; one who acknowledges her skill without arrogant pride, who doesn't force her talent upon anyone, who is considerate and encouraging of others, who understands that everyone excels at something.

"He would like." Coeur De Noir affirmed, pushing back his plate. "My compliments to the chef," he said, patting his stomach. "Marmaduke has outdone himself."

"Miss Heliotrope, may we be excused, Robin and I?" Maria asked, sensing that the meal was coming to a close. Miss Heliotrope glanced over at Lillian, who smiled.

"Oh, let the young ones enjoy themselves," she said. "I'm not sure our conversation about piano interests them."

"No, it's not that," Maria protested, not wanting to seem rude or uncouth. "I do enjoy the piano. But…" how could she explain?

"I think I understand," Lillian said gently, eyes connecting Maria and Robin. "Let us pray so that you can enjoy the beautiful outdoors." And so they did pray, and Maria and Robin were allowed to go outside, leaving Miss Heliotrope, Cousin Lillian, and Coeur De Noir at the table.

"You have a way with the children," Coeur De Noir said, almost admiringly.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Lillian said, taming a stray lock of golden hair.

"The children…well, you are understanding, somehow. I don't know how to describe it. They like you." Lilian considered.

"Perhaps they like me because I do not consider them children," she said, folding her hands in her lap.

"Now I'm not sure what you mean," Coeur De Noir frowned. Lillian turned to him with something near imploration written in her eyes.

"I know you haven't always been on good terms with Robin. But have you looked at your son recently? He is a man now."

"He doesn't always act like one," Coeur De Noir huffed.

"Perhaps his behavior depends upon how he is treated," Lillian said quietly. Coeur De Noir's brows raised in angry astonishment. Was this woman really telling him how to treat his son? What did she know of being a father? His first instinct was to reply with a biting remark. But…there was something that made him bite his tongue instead. Lillian's green-eyed gaze was steady, unswerving, confident.

"There may be something in your words," he said at last. He watched carefully the confident green eyes. They glowed slightly at his reply. And then silence overtook them.

"Well," Miss Heliotrope broke in with awkward punctuality. "I do believe it is time we arose from the table. If you'd like, I could show you the piano, Lillian." Cousin Lillian looked at her hands.

"Perhaps there is something else Monsieur De Noir would prefer to do," she suggested. Miss Heliotrope opened her mouth to answer, but Coeur De Noir's deep baritone broke in.

"Nay, indeed, I should like very much to hear the piano. Especially if you are as accomplished as I perceive you to be." He watched as a little pink mounted in Lillian's cheeks.

"I do not know how accomplished I am; I only love to play and have played for a long time."

"Good!" Miss Heliotrope stood. "Let us make our way to the music room, then." And so the three made their way down to the music room. Soon Lillian was seated on the piano bench, hands dancing over the old ivory keys. One moment her fingers were wispy feathers, the next small but mighty mallets. She played with energy and force, with heart and soul, pouring herself out in the music and letting it sing what words cannot tell.

Miss Heliotrope stood at the end of the grand piano, watching the little hammers inside the instrument fly. Coeur De Noir stood by the window. But when the music began, he could not gaze out for long. Soon he had turned just slightly enough so that his eyes could rest upon Lillian, her head bent, eyes intense and focused. And for some reason, the piano at once became Coeur De Noir's favorite musical instrument.

A/N: Beloved reader,

Firstly, let me apologize for not having updated sooner. I am sure you are familiar with the difficulties busy schedules present. While engagements and social conventions may be enjoyable, they do detract from time that can be devoted to solitary pleasures such as writing. But what can we do? Secondly, I thank you for reading this seventh installment of Peace on Earth. Perhaps this have given you a bit more insight as to the relationships that are forming. Please let me know what you think thus far. Thanks again!

Your faithful

Ponygirl7


	8. Whiteout

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

While the adults were being musically engaged, Robin and Maria were having a great deal more excitement outside. They strolled across the manor grounds, talking and smiling, laughing and poking fun at each other. The air was clear and frigid. The sky was dark and overcast, but Robin and Maria's merry conversations brightened their walk.

"What did you think of Lillian?" Maria asked presently. Robin was quiet for a moment.

"She was nice. I didn't know old ladies could be that nice." Maria shoved him gently.

"She's not old. She's younger than Miss Heliotrope. Maybe younger than your father."

"Hey, I was giving her a compliment. You can't be so critical of other people's compliments."

"Well, you are being critical of my being critical of your compliment. You're a hypocrite."

"I am most certainly not a hippopotamus," Robin said defensively. Maria laughed, letting loose a frosty cloud of breath.

"No, you're right. You're just plain hopeless."

"Am not." He shoulder bumped her.

"Are too." She replied, ramming into him with all her might, for she was of small personage.

"Am not." And he slammed into her, knocking her to the snowy white ground. Maria lie there for a moment, just long enough for Robin to say apprehensively, "Maria? Are you all right?" She gave a muffled reply. "Here, take my hand." He offered, bending down. She moved slowly—and then threw a snowball square in Robin's face!

"Why you—!" he sputtered, shocked by the cold wetness.

"Ha," Maria grinned smugly, triumph glinting in her eyes. "And it would be ungentlemanly of you to throw a snowball at a g—"

Robin promptly tossed a clump of snow directly into Maria's face.

"Hang chivalry. I'm getting even."

Quickly, Maria scooped up a handful of snow. But Robin took off like a fox for the woods. Maria narrowed her eyes. Robin didn't know who he was messing with. She was the Moon Princess. She had overcome an ancient curse. She had unlocked the secrets of centuries. A game such as this would be…well, child's play.

And so after him Maria dashed. The snow made it very simple indeed for her to trace him; his deep footprints stuck out like a sore thumb. She was delighted by this, for in all truth she was not as skilled a tracker as Robin.

On she went, half jogging. It was difficult to run; her bulky winter apparel and the thick layer of snow on the ground hampered her movements. Maria followed the footprints that weaved in and out of groves, under a fallen tree, and over a small frozen creek. At last she stood, breathless, wondering how Robin had gotten so far ahead of her. She had no idea where he was. For all she knew, he could be back at Moonacre Manor now, smirking at his own cleverness.

A clump of snow landed on her face. Maria whirled around, expecting to see Robin. But no one was there. Another clump came, then another. Faster and faster. It was snowing, Maria realized with slight embarrassment. For a moment she gazed up at the heavy gray sky, letting the massive snowflakes (if they could indeed be called 'flakes') fall upon her.

But after a minute of this delightful activity, Maria realized that the snow was coming down forcefully now, not just the gentle sprinkle of other days. A fierce wind whipped at her hair. It was turning into a blizzard.

And Maria was lost.

No, she wasn't. All she had to do was follow her footprints back home. How foolish she was. Maria turned and looked down.

The footprints were gone.

They were covered over by this new downpour. Now Maria really and truly was lost. Her heart hammered in her chest, gaining speed as she realized her predicament. The forest was a vast expanse, and everything looked different in the snow. Even familiar places that Maria might have recognized were entirely new sights.

"Robin!" Maria called. She shouted as loudly as she could, but it made an insignificant noise in comparison to the howling of the wind. "Robin! Robin, are you there? Robin!" She began to walk aimlessly. Oh, it was cold! She shivered, pulling her coat close around her.

One foot in front of the other Maria walked, straight in a direction that could have been towards the manor, or perhaps toward the De Noir village, or perhaps just deeper into the great forest. Maria had no idea where she was, but it was pointless to stand still and freeze.

The harsh wind stung her cheeks with no remorse, and the bitter coldness painted her nose cherry red. Her lips, chapped by the dry air, trembled, half out of fright and half out of sheer chill. Her toes began to feel numb, and her fingers followed suit. Once more, she cried out for Robin. But of course there was no use. Robin was surely long gone.

This was turning serious. What if the snow kept coming? What if Maria never found her way back? What if she froze to death? They would find her in a few days, stiff and…

"Princess!" a voice called out. Maria's knees nearly crumpled as a wave of relief engulfed her. Robin's dark form rushed over to her. "Princess! Here you are! I looked and looked, and I was afraid—we've got to find shelter, quickly." He stared at her pale face, worry creasing his. "You don't look good."

"Now I wonder why," she sputtered through her chapped lips. "Where are we?"

"Nowhere close to my home or yours," he said, having to shout over the relentless gust of wind. "I don't know where we could—Loveday!" Maria blinked. Was Loveday back from her honeymoon already? What would she be doing out in a storm?

"Where?"

"No, I mean Loveday's grotto. The place she lived for a while. That's close. We can stay there." Maria only nodded in comprehension. "It's not far," he said, eying her in concern. "Can you walk?"

"I can make it," she said bravely. It would not do for Robin to think she needed help.

"All right, take my arm," he commanded. This she did.

"Lead the way." She said. And so they began to walk, plowing through the snow and going headlong into the wind. It was a difficult pilgrimage indeed, but it would have been a thousand times worse to make solitarily. Two hearts were better than one. Though they walked in silence, for the wind would not allow for speech, the silence was an encouraging one, and each heart strengthened the other by merely being.

A/N: My dear readers,

I am delighted to see that we have gathered more of an audience! It is always encouraging to have several readers rooting the author on. But then, I think only one reader is necessary to make the author feel appreciated. Sorry. Forgive my random babbling. I thank you most sincerely for reading this chapter of Peace of Earth; hopefully it has been a little more exciting. At any rate, I thank you not only for your time and kind reviews, but also for your patience regarding my slow updates. I don't fancy I need to explain to you the trials of making time for creative writing, however enjoyable it may be. Thank you once again for your support.

Ever yours,

Ponygirl7


	9. Glaringly Obvious

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

After what seemed an eternity, Robin and Maria stumbled down into Loveday's grotto. The quiet was almost overpowering from the storm outside, so different to their buzzing ears. It was not nearly as cold, nor was it as windy. Robin and Maria staggered a few steps before sinking to the ground in utter exhaustion.

"We made it," she panted, hardly believing the words she spoke to be a reality. She had thought for certain that they were going to freeze to death.

"We made it," he echoed in a hollow voice. "Are you all right? You can move your fingers and toes?" Maria tested them out.

"Yes—well, my fingers are a little white. I lost one of my gloves, and—heavens, what is it?" she stopped, appalled by his expression.

"Maria, have you heard of frostbite?"

"Of course; isn't that…oh." She looked down at her hand. "You don't think…?"

"What does it feel like?" he asked anxiously. She tried in vain to move her fingers.

"It's like I just stabbed myself with a needle, but in a million places. Should I rub it to thaw it?"

"No!" he answered quickly. "No. That could damage it even more, if it is frozen. We've got to warm it up."

"I'd like to warm my whole self up," she said with a shiver. "I've never been this cold in my life."

"Let's get away from the opening," Robin said. "It's warmer over in that corner." They made their way shakily to the corner he pointed out, where they slumped down onto the earthen floor. "All right, which hand is it?" She held it out, flinching with the effort. Robin shed his gloves, took her small hand, and gently covered it with his. Maria felt a tingling sensation. Likely it was common sense leaving her body.

"Your hand is so cold," Robin remarked fearfully.

"But…it will be all right?" Maria said, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"It's hard to say. I'm not a doctor. But I think if we keep it warm, it should be all right." They were silent for a minute, pondering the other ugly possibility.

"When will the blizzard let up?" Maria said at last, not wanting to dwell on the previous topic.

"I don't know. This is the worst whiteout I've ever seen."

"Whiteout?"

"Just another name for a blizzard. Because, you know, everything is white." Maria rolled her eyes.

"I figured as much. Do you think it'll be a couple hours more?"

"At least," he sighed. "I've heard of blizzards lasting for days, even weeks."

"Around here?" Maria was shocked. She wished she had paid more attention when Miss Heliotrope was rambling on about storms during their science lesson.

"Maybe. I'm not sure. I can't know everything."

"Well, that's obvious."

"Hey!" he said indignantly. "I've a mind to send you back out into the snow! This is my family's hovel, after all."

"Not so fast, Bird Boy," Maria chided him. "This place belongs to Loveday, right?"

"Yes; she's my sister."

"I see," Maria said, "And pray tell me, who did Loveday marry? What is her surname now?" Robin pouted.

"Well, it was mine first."

"You never answered my question," Maria pressed. "What is Loveday's last name now?"

"Merryweather," Robin muttered.

"That's what I thought," she said, raising her nose a little.

"Well, you won't be a Merryweather very long," Robin said.

"And whyever not?" she demanded.

"When you get married, you'll take your husband's last name. And then this place will be more mine than yours."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you won't even be half-owner of it anymore. Loveday's a De Noir and Merryweather. I'll still be a De Noir. You won't be a Merryweather." Maria was determined not to lose this debate.

"And what if I marry a De Noir?"

"Come on; how many young De Noir men do you know?"

"A few," she replied hazily. In all truth, the only young man of that family she knew was Robin. But he was making it glaringly obvious he wasn't interested in wedding Maria any time soon.

"Whatever. But now you're assuming they'd want to marry an obstinate, headstrong girl like you."

"Yes, I am. Your point?"

"I'm not sure what my point was, actually. I was kind of hoping you'd back down from the argument."

"An obstinate, headstrong girl like me? Not a chance," Maria laughed, but the laugh turned into a tremble of cold.

"How's your hand feeling now?" Robin asked.

"I think I can feel something. And I won."

"Won what?"

"The argument. You changed the subject."

"I most certainly—oh. Look, are you blaming me for being concerned for your wellbeing?"

"No. It is…sweet of you," she said diffidently.

"Huh. I don't think anyone has ever described me as 'sweet' before."

"I can tell you why. You hide your good heartedness under a show of witty pride."

"It's not a show," he said. "I am clever, and I am proud of it."

"But Robin," she said earnestly, "More people would like you, would love you, if you just let them see that you really are a kind person."

"Who said I wanted to be loved?" he replied.

"Do you really want to be a hermit and live all by yourself?"

"Oh, you'd come and visit, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe I would be busy with my husband."

"Hm." Robin grunted. Maria's arrow had hit its mark. A silence overtook them. Maria wished so fervently that he would understand her meaning. She wouldn't go and visit Robin because she hoped he'd already be with her. But after what he'd said, it didn't seem like that was going to happen.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you so very much for reading this ninth installment of Peace on Earth. Although there is not quite as much peace in this chapter as we'd like. Sorry to end on a rather negative note. It does seem a bit bleak right now; hopefully the next chapter will be a little more cheerful. And what is a story without strife? At any rate, I thank you once more for your continued support and patience. Happy reading!

As always,

Ponygirl7


	10. A Long Day

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria and Robin waited in silence for a while, listening to the howling wind outside. Maria wanted to take back what she'd said. It was harsh to tell Robin she may not come and visit him, because he didn't understand that she hoped he would be her husband. The snowstorm raged on. It was nearly noon, no doubt. Maria was growing hungry. Her hand was not so bad anymore. Robin's rested idly on hers. She snuck a glance at him after a while.

His head was tilted back, bowler hat tipped over his eyes. Maria wondered if he was awake.

"Robin?" she whispered. A slow smile spread languidly across his face.

"Princess?" Maria's brow furrowed anxiously.

"You're not angry with me?"

"Why would I be?"

"Well, I…I don't know." You see, as a general thing, boys soon forget any slights, while girls tend to cling to those offenses and unleash them later to elicit pangs of regret and guilt. Maria was infinitely glad Robin was quick to forget. "Are you hungry?" she asked timidly.

"Starved. You?"

"Famished. Do you think Loveday left any food in here?" she asked. Robin grunted.

"Can't hurt to look." He sprang to his feet with surprising agility. Maria was not so nimble, owing to her present cold-and-hungry-and-worried state. Robin began to walk away, but then he spun back around and held out his hand. "Here," he said. "Let me help." She gratefully grasped his hand, and he pulled her up.

"Thank you," she said. He grunted a reply and made his way to a wall of wooden cupboards.

"There's got to be something in here," he said, flinging cabinets open and shut. Maria frowned.

"Maybe she cleaned it all out before she left."

"No; she was too distracted about her wedding to remember anything else. Trust me, I know my sister."

"You're probably right."

"Of course I'm right."

"Whatever, Mr. Egotistical—oh, here we go!" Maria exclaimed. "She left…let's see. Honey, beans, and…what is this?" she held up a bottle of amber liquid. Robin squinted.

"That is liquor." He said. "Well then, honey, beans and liquor. We won't starve, anyway." Maria's face wrinkled in disgust.

"I won't drink liquor! Don't you know that liquor is bad for children?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not a child."

"Robin," she pleaded. Robin rolled his eyes.

"Take it easy, Princess. You won't die of thirst. There is plenty of snow out there for you." Maria sighed. Well, it was better than that disgraceful alcohol.

"Can we eat beans plain?" she asked.

"We can add honey," he suggested.

"Oh, Robin, you cannot possibly expect me to eat that!" she protested.

"You can eat them separate."

"I suppose that's what I'll have to do," she admitted. "Is there a table?"

"No, but the floor's as good as any. Come, let's sit."

They sat on the packed ground floor. Robin grabbed a handful of beans and dropped them into his mouth.

"Not bad," he said. Maria shuddered, but daintily plucked one up and popped it in her mouth. She cringed, but it was food, and she was hungry. One by one, the beans slowly disappeared. The honey was crystallized, but it was still edible. Indeed, its sweetness was a welcome respite from the dry beans.

"I'll bet Father is enjoying one of Marmaduke's fine feasts," Robin said begrudgingly. "Probably a big ham, with asparagus and salad and cranberry sauce and—"

"Stop it!" Maria shoved him gently. "You're making me even hungrier. Plus," she licked her fingers. "I don't think they're eating right now. They're probably worried about us." Robin chuckled.

"You don't know my father. The world could be ending, and he'd still make time for a snack." Maria snickered. "Well, I'm thirsty," he said, taking up the liquor. Maria frowned in disapproval.

"You're not going to drink that, are you?"

"There's snow outside if you want it, Princess. Don't worry about me. I've had liquor before." Maria didn't doubt his words; the De Noirs were hardly cautious about limiting their alcohol consumption. But she had hoped Robin would be a little more reserved in that respect. And so it was with a sigh that she went off to the opening of the cave to get some snow. Meanwhile, Robin took a long swig of the liquor.

When Maria reached the opening, she gasped. It was completely covered in snow. There was no easy way to get out. Well, they could always dig if they had to. She took up a handful of snow and ate it. What had she expected? It was water. Not very satisfying, but water nonetheless. When she had had her fill, she walked back to Robin.

"The entrance is blocked," she said. "We'll have to dig." He looked up at her.

"Is it still snowing?"

"I couldn't tell. I could hear the wind though; it hasn't died down." She glanced at the bottle he held. "Did you drink a quarter of that already?" He shrugged.

"I was thirsty."

"There is water out there," she reminded him.

"So I noticed." He eyed her. "If the wind is still blowing, it's probably still snowing. We may be stuck here for the afternoon."

"For the afternoon?" Maria's eyes widened. "Can we leave before nightfall?"

"Doubtful," was the vague reply. "I dunno." Maria looked at him closely.

"Robin…" she frowned. How easy was it for a person to get drunk? She had no idea. But he didn't seem quite…himself. "Well, we can't stay the night." She said matter-of-factly.

"Why not?" he asked, blinking. Maria's jaw dropped.

"You can't be serious. It's highly improper!"

"Huh?"

"You are so daft!" she exclaimed. It was quite clear that Robin wasn't himself. Then again, he usually was rather daft. "Have you any idea what would become of our reputations if we spent the night in this cave together? There are no separate rooms here."

"So?"

"So?! Oh, Robin, I shouldn't have to explain this to you." She slumped to the ground in exasperation. "What would people think?"

"I don't care what people think," Robin said, leaning back on his forearms. "But we're staying here until it's safe. I'm not letting you get hurt." Maria studied him. Was he being serious? Was he thinking clearly? Perhaps it would be better to give him a wide berth until…until the liquor wore off. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. Without a word, she went over to the corner of the room, sat down, and waited. Robin didn't seem to notice her departure.

He took another swallow.

Maria sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

A/N: Beloved reader,

Thank you for reading this tenth installment of Peace on Earth! Though indeed, Maria's earth does not seem peaceful in the least. I had hoped for more cheerful thoughts in this chapter, but you know Robin and Maria. Always bickering. What could I do? Perhaps they will reconcile soon, if that dreadful drink wears off. I sincerely apologize for the delay in chapters, and I thank you most heartily for your patience. Thank you also for your continued support and encouraging reviews. I'm sure you know that this story would not exist, were it not for you. And for that, I thank you once more.

Yours gratefully,

Ponygirl7 :)


	11. Foolish

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Perhaps it was an hour. Perhaps it was four. Maria had lost track of time. Everything seemed to be cold and bare and still. She sat in the corner for the longest time, watching as Robin downed the whole bottle of liquor with no regard for decorum. Presently her eyelids began to grow heavy. Exhausted, Maria succumbed to sweet sleep, hoping to find a refuge from her trials.

Maria's eyelashes fluttered. She opened her eyes slowly, adjusting to the dimness. Where…? Ah, yes. She remembered. The snowstorm. Loveday's cave. Robin. Robin…where was he? Her eyes darted around the room. A dark lump was sprawled across the floor.

Robin.

She stumbled to her feet and rushed over to him. The stupid boy still clutched the now empty glass bottle. Maria pried it from his fingers and flung it across the room angrily. Despite the noise, Robin didn't awaken. Now Maria was worried. She rolled him over, unbuttoned his coat, and felt for a pulse on his neck.

For the briefest moment, she felt nothing, and her own heart stopped.

And then it was there, a slow, steady rhythm. She exhaled shakily—and then wondered at herself. How could she have thought Robin was dead? What a fool she was. Of course, after drinking so much, he was bound to sink into a deep sleep. How long had he been asleep? She wondered. When would he wake up? She knew not.

Well, what could Maria do now? Sitting idle would only make her mood worse. Perhaps it would be best to go check on the weather. She stood and shuffled over to the mouth of the cave. No wind. That was good. Things were settling down. Perhaps they could be out before nightfall. She glanced back at Robin. Perhaps not.

Meanwhile, the adults were distressed. After the piano playing they had congregated by the fireplace near the front door, waiting for the two children to return. They chatted merrily at first, discussing with lively eyes and intrigued minds. Hours passed. Marmaduke brought lunch to them, and though it was a grand affair, Miss Heliotrope did not eat because of her concern for Maria. After lunch, the well of conversation ran dry, an unspoken fear oppressing them all.

Coeur De Noir tried to be optimistic. Surely the children were safe. Robin had no doubt taken Maria to the De Noir Village, where they were safe and cozy, probably sitting by a fire just like this one. He said this much to Miss Heliotrope, but the blasted tutor was not to be consoled. Nothing he could say or do would convince her that the children were all right. It was foolish of him to think he could reason with an old flustered hen such as Miss Heliotrope.

Miss Heliotrope fretted, pacing back and forth before the fire, kneading her hands worriedly. Her poor Maria, stuck in that dreadful storm! It had come up so fast! That De Noir boy should not have let Maria go out in such unpredictable weather. No doubt he knew the storm was coming. He should have brought her back by now. She had been foolish to let her dear child go out with that young ruffian. Everything was wrong.

Digweed stood faithfully nearby, brow knit in concern. His eyes followed Miss Heliotrope almost like an ardent dog, devoted and adoring. But he did not make any move to try and comfort Jane—that is, Miss Heliotrope. Miss Heliotrope. No, he knew his place. He was only a servant, and she was head of the house while Sir Benjamin was gone. It was foolish to think he could be anything else.

Cousin Lillian sat quietly in a high backed leather chair across from Coeur De Noir, gazing hollowly at the carpet. The morning had been going so well! She had visited with her dear cousin and met Maria, whom she'd heard so much about. She'd met…what was his name? Yes, Robin. An eligible young man very compatible to Maria, so it seemed. She had seen, at least, Digweed, the ruddy, clumsy butler to whom Jane had taken a fancy. Yes, Lillian could see the match. If only Jane didn't care about what the public would think of a servant and a tutor! Ah, was not stubbornness always love's enemy? Lillian had also met Coeur De Noir. Such an interesting gentleman; never before had she met anyone like him. There was a refreshing feel to him, something solid and tangible that she found invigorating. Supposing…no, it was foolish of her to think like that after she had known him but a few hours! No. Sense would be her ally.

The howling wind ceased. All at once, the noise was gone, leaving an irresolute emptiness. Everyone looked up. Even Wrolf, who had been moping by the fire awaiting his mistress, raised his black head with a quiet growl of inquiry. The storm had stopped. They could safely go look for Robin and Maria. Yet they almost feared what they might find. Silent prayers issued forth from their heavy hearts. It was time to search.

A/N: Dear reader,

Sorry to end on a rather depressing note! It seems this is not quite the cheery tale I originally envisioned, but what would be the fun in all rainbows and kisses? Conflict must arise somewhere, and what better source than nature itself? At any rate, I thank you for continuing with me on this journey of _Peace on Earth_. I am fully aware that, at the moment, peace is nonexistent in Moonacre Valley. Rest assured that it will be restored in due time. When that due time is…I cannot say. This leads me to thank you most sincerely for your enduring patience in my slug-speed publishing. You are very gracious, and for this and your kind reviews I thank you.

Your appreciative

Ponygirl7


	12. Fury & Respite

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

I will not exhaust my time relating every minute detail of the adults' efforts to find the children. They checked De Noir Village and searched what they could of the forest. But the snow was piled high, making it extremely difficult to traverse the terrain, let alone search it. Loveday's cave did not cross their minds; Loveday herself hadn't used it for a while, and they weren't all that familiar with it anyway.

Finally, when the overcast sky began to darken, Coeur De Noir announced that they had better head back to the manor. It was not an easy thing to say. Robin and Maria could be dead, for all they knew, and indeed, it seemed likely. But Coeur De Noir knew that if they stayed outside any longer, they were liable to become sick, or even worse. And so it was with heavy hearts that Coeur De Noir, Miss Heliotrope, Cousin Lillian, and Digweed (for he had insisted on helping) trudged back to the manor. Perhaps things would be looking up in the morning.

In the meantime, Robin was still out cold, as it were. Maria had no idea what time it was, but she reasoned it to be nearly supper time. She ate what remained of the beans and honey, drinking a little water from the snow. Every time she looked at Robin, passed out on the floor, a wave of nausea overtook her. Not only did she feel sick; she felt angry. Angry at Robin for not heeding her warning. Angry at Robin for passing out. Angry at Robin for leaving her to deal with this absolute mess.

Her anger festered as she sat in the darkness. A little light was let through by the white snow, but it was dim. She knew it would be dark soon, and she would not be able to see. Why did Robin have to go and get drunk? Fat lot of help he was. It was unfair, completely inconsiderate of him to drink that liquor, knowing he would lose his senses and succumb to sleep. Then again, she scoffed, did he really have any senses to begin with? The foolish boy had run off after throwing a snowball at her. She had been absolutely lost because of him. It was because of him that they were in this mess. And now he had the nerve to leave her with it, resigning himself from all responsibility!

A groan echoed through the cave. Maria's eyes shot up heatedly. Robin groaned again and sat up shakily, rubbing his eyes.

"Ugh, where—" Maria slapped him across the face. Had there been enough light, his stinging scarlet cheek would have been visible. "Hey, what was that for?"

"That was for getting drunk," Maria spat. She slapped him again. "And that was for leaving me alone."

"Leaving you alone? When did I leave you alone?" he asked, groggily rising to his feet.

"You drank that infernal liquor! You got drunk, and then you passed out for hours. You left me to sit in this wretched cave with nothing to do but wait and hope in vain that perhaps someone would come to rescue us but no one came, as you can easily see, and it will be dark out soon and I'll have to spend the whole night here in the dark with nothing but some hungover bird brain who can't seem to get it into his head why it is completely improper for me stay the night here, and—" she was crying now, and her words were hardly comprehendible. "And Miss Heliotrope will be worried—and it's almost Christmas—" she shook from emotion, "and I miss home—and what if we never get out of here—and—"

"Easy." Robin's voice was low, as though he was calming a frightened horse. "Come here." He reached out to hug her, but she backed away.

"No," she sniffed. "What if you're still drunk?" She shrank back to a corner of the room and sat down in shuddering heap of tears. Robin was beginning to realize just how badly he had failed. This was not going to be easy. His head was still fuzzy, but he understood the gravity of this situation. Maria was right. He should not have drunk that liquor. He should not have left Maria alone. But now it seemed she would rather be alone than with the likes of Robin. He sighed. It was a big old mess, but he had gotten himself into it. What could he do to regain her favor?

"Princess, please listen to me," he said earnestly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did. Will you forgive me?" He waited. No answer. Quiet, muffled sobs racked her trembling body. He took a deep breath. If he drew closer, would she push him away? But if he stayed put, he would gain nothing. Oh, why did he have to be such a fool? Robin summoned his courage and walked over to Maria. He dropped down beside her and sat there, waiting. After a few minutes, her sobs died down to little sniffles. Robin gingerly slid an arm around her shoulders. She made no resistance. Presently she leaned into him.

"Oh, Robin, I'm sorry," she said with a quavering breath. "I just—I'm so worried and afraid and—"

"Shhhh," he said. "We're going to be all right. It's just a little snow. One night won't hurt." As soon as he spoke the last words, he regretted them. How stupid he was! It wasn't really the night that Maria was afraid of; it was spending it with him. She had said as much earlier. He had forgotten. "If you want, I can sleep over there." He gestured to the other side of the cave. Maria made no reply. He began to stand—but she laid a hand on his arm.

"No, don't go," she whispered. "I—please don't. We…we've got to stay warm, right?" Robin wasn't sure what to think, but he was glad she wasn't angry with him anymore.

"Right," he sat back down. Maria leaned into him, letting out a shaky breath.

"I'm glad you're here." She said quietly. "I can't imagine what it would be like, being stranded here all alone." Robin smiled a little.

"That wouldn't happen."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you wouldn't be stuck here for long. I'd find you before you could blink, don't worry." Maria found his words oddly comforting. She felt the rise and fall of his breathing, steady and constant. She felt his warmth and was reassured. His neck feathers brushed against her forehead. Robin was here, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her. She trusted that. She trusted him.

A/N: Darling reader,

There, was that better? We ended a bit more peacefully than previous chapters, thank goodness. Robin and Maria are warming up, so to speak. I'm so glad; bickering is so exhausting, and the respite of a little sweetness must arrive at some point. I do not think Maria and Robin will be at odds any more during their time in the cave; things seem to be pretty well patched up at the moment. At any rate, I thank you for reading this chapter and reviewing so kindly. I truly appreciate your feedback. Happy reading!

Your relieved

Ponygirl7


	13. Words Unspoken

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

It was now dusk. This was difficult to discern, but Robin's senses were attuned to the nature of Moonacre. He knew that he and Maria would indeed be spending the night here; there was nothing to be done. Not that he was going to complain. Yes, he was rather hungry and a little blurry still from drinking (drat that liquor!), but Maria was no longer angry with him. In fact, it was pleasant, sitting there with her snuggled up beside him. He was warm and oddly content and try as he might, he couldn't deny the reason.

Since the resolution of the feud, Robin and Maria had been great friends. They had spent a good deal of time together. As friends. Nothing more. Robin tried to convince himself that he was content with that. He ought to be grateful; before Maria came, life was harsh and bitter and resentful. But now he was _happy._ He hadn't been this happy in his life. He ought to be content with what he had been given. But nooo, Robin had to go and wish for something impossible. Why did he have to fall for Maria? For that was what he had done; there was no use denying it now; he loved her. But why did he have to love Maria, of all people? The girls back in the De Noir village adored him. But there were bland, frivolous, easy…nothing at all like the beautiful, bright, enigmatic Maria. The unattainable Maria.

It was obvious she had no interest in him beyond a friendship. She was kind, yes, too kind to trifle with him. She wouldn't play games. She wouldn't feign attraction. She wasn't that kind of person, which was good. She was sincere. When she fell in love with someone, it would be forever. But it seemed he was not that someone. They were merely friends, nothing more. Why couldn't he be satisfied with that?

But he couldn't. And now, having Maria so close, it warmed and pierced his heart. The comfort of her trust and companionship gave him security. But knowing that this sweetness could never be his…it was agony. He blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Maria sat back, leaving a coldness where her warmth had been.

"What's wrong?" she asked, peering into his eyes as well as she could, considering the dim light. He fixed his eyes on his hands.

"Nothing." Nothing? Coward. He was such a blasted coward. Why couldn't he be a man and own up to his feelings?

"I know you better than that," Maria chuckled. "You're a terrible liar. Come on, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing of consequence." Oh, sure. Brilliant, Robin. Just bloody brilliant.

"Hm." She studied him a moment. Then, without warning, she snatched his bowler hat.

"Hey!" he grunted. "Give it back!" She scooted away. "It wouldn't even fit you!"

"Oh, I think it fits me just fine."

"Yeah, right. It covers your eyes."

"Who needs vision, anyway?" she shrugged. "I think it's overrated. But you're not getting this back until you tell me what is bothering you."

Oh, great. Just perfect. Well, there was no way Robin was going to tell Maria he was in love with her. She'd just laugh. And then she'd realize he wasn't joking. And then their friendship would be ruined. Well, Robin was a quick thinker. He cleared his throat.

"I was just thinking about the future." That was true, wasn't it? Mostly true. Maria sat in silence.

Something was obviously bothering him, but he wasn't going to tell her. That much was clear. He was thinking about the future? Maria frowned. Robin was rarely that serious. Most of the time he was just laughing and joking around. His humor was absolutely adorable, but Maria believed solemnity to be a great virtue too. It was good to be responsible, to be steady, reliable. Those were traits Maria doubted Robin possessed. Until now. She groaned inwardly. Just when she had tried to convince herself that loving Robin was impossible, that he was too immature, he showed himself to be serious and thoughtful. Why did he have to be so perfect?

"Are you going to give me my hat back?" he prodded. She caved.

"I suppose. Even though you didn't really answer my question. What were you really thinking about?"

"Stuff."

"Oh. Stuff. I see. Stuff and…?" She waited.

"Things."

"Ah, right. Stuff and things. Heavens, why I put up with you, I'll never know."

"But you still put up with me."

"It's a weakness."

"I'm your weakness?" He sounded surprised.

"Don't get all cocky now. I just might build up an immunity to your irresistible charm."

"I have irresistible charm?"

"It's becoming more and more resistible."

"And what can I do to remedy that?" He slid closer to her. Maria's spine tingled.

"Not much you can do."

"Shame." His breath rushed over her face. Maria was paralyzed. And before she could understand what was happening, Robin seized his hat, laughing with triumph.

"Scoundrel!" she scolded. "You're trying to take what I've rightfully stolen." And without warning, she pounced on him, knocking him onto his back. But he caught her outstretched hands.

"Ha! I got you!" he announced.

"Don't be too sure," she said. "I've got the upper hand right now." This was true, seeing as how she was on top of him.

"Well, you may have the upper hand, but I've got your hand! By that logic, I have your upper hand!"

"It seems we've come to an impasse," Maria said. "You have my hands, but if you let go, I'll grab your hat."

"I'm not quite sure what 'impasse' means, but if it's like a dead end, you're right." His breath was warm. He smelled of fresh pine trees.

"What do you propose we do?" she asked. He considered.

"I'm not willing to give up, and I doubt you are, either. I'm afraid we'll just have to spend the night like this." His words didn't have quite the sensational effect. Maria only chuckled.

"Wouldn't Miss Heliotrope love that?"

"No, Miss Heliotrope loves Digweed," Robin corrected.

"True," she admitted, "But even spending the night in the same room with you is highly scandalous, to her."

"Why?" he asked.

"Why do you think?" she laughed, cheeks prettily pink.

"Hm." He said thoughtfully. She waited for him to explain, but he didn't.

"Hm, what? What are you thinking?"

"I'm just wondering…well, you keep saying that Miss Heliotrope would consider it scandalous, that your tutor wouldn't approve. But what do you think?" He instantly regretted his question. He knew that she would say something pertaining to the fact that they were 'only friends,' and that would hurt him even more. Now it was his turn to wait for her answer.

"I think…" she pursed her lips. "I think it is scandalous."

"You don't seem worried."

"I'm not." She replied promptly.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Because I trust you. We're both honorable. Neither of us would do anything outside the bounds of propriety."

"Are you sure? This is Robin De Noir you're talking to, you know."

"I know," she acknowledged with a slight smile, "But you're a decent knave. A respectable rogue. You may be rough around the edges, but you have a heart of gold."

"How do you know?" he asked.

"I can feel it." She murmured. She rested her head on his chest. His heart beat a steady rhythm.

Robin hoped she couldn't feel how it fluttered.

A/N: Dear reader,

Oh, I'm so excited! They're getting along so swimmingly now, it is a shame to end this chapter! Alas, for the sake of chapter length continuity, I must. At least things are beginning to look up. Perhaps you noticed my nod to 'The Princess Bride', one of the greatest movies of all time. On a different note, the title of this chapter, 'Words Unspoken', comes from a little poem: Hearts are often broken by words left unspoken. How true it is! I think you can see how this plays into our story. But do not be afraid; I shall try not to break anyone's heart. Now, let me reassure you if you are beginning to be anxious, that I would never write anything indecent. Nor would Robin or Maria ever commit anything immoral. I feel I must say this just to be on the safe side; so many stories of this nature portray romance as being merely physical indulgence, and I do not appreciate it. This love, at least, is pure. It has its complications, but lust will not be one. Sorry for the brief outburst, but I do think I ought to state my intentions. At any rate, I thank you once again for taking the time to read my little story. I thank you also for the gracious reviews. You cannot know how, as a writer, they encourage me. But enough blather. I wish you happy reading!

Yours truly,

Ponygirl7


	14. Age is a Number

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Miss Heliotrope insisted Coeur De Noir stay at the manor overnight. If Robin and Maria did return during the night, they would need all hands on deck. Coeur De Noir would be given the guest room adjacent to Cousin Lillian's. After their search outside, they had returned to the house with heavy hearts. They spent most of the evening by the fire, hoping, waiting, and praying. The flickering flames danced, casting curling shadows on the company's sullen faces. They were all imagining the ghastly possibilities. Even Wrolf closed his eyes as he slumped by the fire, exhausted.

Presently, the tall grandfather clock chimed, heralding eleven o' clock. A collective sigh went up from Miss Heliotrope, Cousin Lillian, Coeur De Noir, and Digweed, who lingered in the shadows as a butler ought.

"That'll be eleven, then," Digweed said gently. "Perhaps it would be best to get a good night's sleep. Things will be better in the morning." Miss Heliotrope looked up at him, pain creased in her forehead.

"But supposing they aren't better," she said, a quaver in her voice. "Suppose—suppose—"

"Suppositions won't do any good now, cousin," Lillian said. "It's in Heaven's hands."

"She's right," Coeur De Noir told Miss Heliotrope. "Nothing we can do now."

"But how can you expect me to be able to sleep?" Miss Heliotrope fretted. "I shan't sleep a wink, not with all these thoughts muddled in my head."

"It can't hurt to try, miss," Digweed said, "And you do need your rest. If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything." Miss Heliotrope smiled weakly up at him.

"Please don't call me 'miss'. We can do away with formalities in such a time as this." He bowed slightly.

"As you wish…"

"Jane," she supplied.

"Jane." He repeated, smiling a little at the word. Miss Heliotrope's heart lifted momentarily, forgetting the current frightful situation. Digweed offered his hand and helped her up from her seat.

"Heavens, I'm dizzy," Miss Heliotrope said, swaying on her feet.

"That'll be your wearisome state then…Jane," Digweed said, steadying her with a light hand on her shoulder.

"Perhaps you'd better help Miss Heliotrope to her room," Lillian suggested innocently. "Coeur De Noir and I can see ourselves to ours." Miss Heliotrope shot a narrow glance Lillian's way, who smiled and winked almost imperceptibly. But everyone was agreeable, so Digweed escorted Miss Heliotrope off down the darkened hallway.

"I'm sorry to be a burden," Miss Heliotrope said, picking her path carefully.

"You are many things, yes, but a burden you are not," Digweed said shyly. Miss Heliotrope blinked, a warm sensation overtaking her. She stumbled, stepping squarely on Digweed's foot. Then she quickly stepped off, tripping backward and almost falling, but Digweed's arm caught her and set her aright.

"Oh! Fiddlesticks, I'm sorry," she clucked unhappily. "How clumsy of me." Digweed's eyes shone faintly.

"And I thought I was clumsy." Miss Heliotrope frowned at his words. But when she looked up and saw his eyes, glistening with merriment, she burst into laughter. He broke out into guffaws, and they laughed for a solid minute. For, although it was not a particularly hilarious moment, it was funny, and when people are under stress they are inclined to crack up at anything the least bit humorous.

When at last they reverted to small chuckles and only brief lapses into hysterics, they finished their walk down to Miss Heliotrope's room. They paused at the doorway, still grinning like old fools.

"Thank you," Miss Heliotrope said sincerely, "For making me laugh. It has been a long time since I truly laughed. It makes me feel young again."

"You don't need me to make you feel young," he said, "I don't think you could ever be what they call elderly." Miss Heliotrope looked steadily at him.

"Digweed…" she was at a loss. What could she say? A civil war was waging inside her; the prudent, proper lady battled the impetuous love-conquers-all woman. Who would have thought that the eyes behind those prim spectacles could hold so much adoration for one person? Digweed held her gaze, and the corner of his mouth quirked up a little. Miss Heliotrope's propriety was finally shoved back into a corner.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Digweed's cheek lightly. It was a fond peck, and it conveyed her meaning. Digweed took up her frail hand in his.

"Good night, Jane." He said. She smiled softly.

"Good night, Digweed."

They parted ways, Miss Heliotrope to her chamber and Digweed to the hall. And as Miss Heliotrope twirled and skipped around her room, she was no longer the grave tutor but the giddy schoolgirl once again, glowing with color and smiles. Digweed's step was not the solid, hesitant tread, but a bold bouncy step that rejoiced at every stride.

Meanwhile, Lillian and Coeur De Noir made their way to their respective rooms.

"I'm sorry your first day here had to be one of unrest," Coeur De Noir apologized.

"Oh, don't worry about me. Perhaps I was meant to come here for this express purpose; I can comfort Jane…and you. Although," she saw Digweed come stepping jauntily down the hall. "Although perhaps Jane doesn't need me as much." Coeur De Noir frowned.

"I beg your pardon?" Lillian chuckled at his blank expression.

"Jane and Digweed! Surely you've noticed…" she stared at him. "Good heavens! You don't mean to tell me you're that oblivious, do you?" Coeur De Noir shrugged sheepishly.

"I've concerned myself with my son and Maria, mostly. But if you think Miss Heliotrope will marry Digweed, I believe you."

"Oh, it's not as simple as that," she said with a sigh. "I'm afraid we have two problems yet. You see," she lowered her voice, "Digweed is shy. How can we be sure he will ask her at all? And Jane is worried about what people will say. A tutor and a butler? People will talk."

"Why should they be worried about what other people say?" Coeur De Noir inquired. "If they're happy, it shouldn't matter."

"Exactly!" Lillian's eyes brightened. "Coeur De Noir, you are wise beyond your years."

"Ah, I wouldn't say that. You don't know how old I am." He chuckled.

"You can't be more than five years my senior. Fifty-six?" His bushy eyebrows shot up.

"How did you know?"

"I guessed."

"Fine guesser you are."

"Why, thank you."

"That makes you fifty-one." He pointed out.

"Yes?" she said.

"You don't look a day over forty-five."

"You are a kind liar, Coeur De Noir."

"Why, thank you."

"We'd better get some sleep," she said. "Hopefully all will be well in the morning." He bowed slightly.

"I bid thee good night."

"Good night, and sweet dreams." She returned. And they retired to the bedrooms, each to ponder what they would. And so it was that, despite the tragedy of the day, they found a bit of peace in one another.

A/N: My dear reader,

Thank you so very much for reading this chapter! I know you have been very patient, and I thank you most sincerely for it. I won't go on the crazy schedule spiel, for I know you understand it. Thank you for your reviews. I cannot express to you what light you bring to the daily drudgery of life.

Yours sincerely,

Ponygirl7


	15. So Close, Yet So Far Away

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria's eyes fluttered open hazily. She saw nothing. Of course not; she was in a cave, and it was nighttime. It must be the middle of the night, she thought. At least she was warm. Very warm, indeed. She shifted her position and heard a grunt. Oh! That was Robin that she was lying on top of. No wonder she'd been so warm. Blushing furiously, she tried to roll off him. But his arms were locked around her back, closing her in.

Well, she hated to wake him. But perhaps if she could just slowly move his arms to his sides…

"Hm? Maria?" Great. Now he was awake. Maria took advantage of the situation and tumbled off him.

"Sorry, go back to sleep," she whispered.

"I'm awake now. Where are you? Where'd you go?"

"I'm right here. I just…I was warm."

"Well, I'm cold now."

"You'll warm up." She hoped she wasn't being too harsh with him. But their close proximity was incredibly aggravating to her. On one hand, she wanted to scoot to the other side of the room for propriety's sake. On the other hand, she really wanted to snuggle up to him and kiss him. But that would only make matters worse, because it was obvious he didn't have feelings for her beyond a solid friendship. If she complicated things, she could lose him entirely. And so she dared not move.

"Are you angry with me?" Robin asked. Maria could picture his furrowed brow, his hurt expression. How it cut her to the core!

"No," she replied.

"Then come back over here before I freeze to death. Otherwise I'll have to come get you."

"I doubt you could find me. It's dark, you know." She rolled further away.

"Ah, but I'm a hunter. You underestimate my capabilities." The smugness in his voice was thick. Maria made no reply. If she spoke, she'd give her location away. She scooted silently, making her way to the other side of the grotto. Robin's low chuckle echoed in the dark. "It would seem the game is on."

Maria felt the cold wall of the cave. She rose to her feet and walked, making no sound. She heard Robin make some noise; was he crawling on his hand and feet? And then there was no sound at all. It was as though Robin had disappeared from the face of the earth. Maria decided to stop moving. Perhaps she could stay undetected for a while. Her heart hammered within her so loud that she thought Robin must hear it. Was this how all the animals felt when they were being stalked? Of course, Robin wasn't going to kill her; she knew that. It was thrilling in a strange way, waiting, hardly daring to breathe.

Meanwhile, Robin stood still, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Ah, it was good to be a hunter! He was in charge. His prey feared him. At least…well, she probably didn't fear him. But she didn't want him to find her. Well, he would find her and prove that he was every bit the huntsman. He inhaled inaudibly. Maria had a distinct smell, something like warmth and vanilla. He turned in every direction, sniffing. The De Noirs prided themselves on their keen senses. Robin's did not fail him now. He caught her scent. Now he knew what direction to head in. He took a few steps and then listened. There it was; a faint breathing. Who was Maria to think she could evade him?

Robin moved swiftly and silently. He was aware that Maria was barely a foot away from him. Hm. If he tackled her, she may fall and hurt herself. He did want to startle her, of course. What to do, what to do?

Maria waited, ears straining for some sign. She heard nothing. Everything was still.

Then her feet swept out from underneath her. She gave a sharp cry. She expected to hit the ground—but she did not. She found herself supported by two arms.

"How's that for hunting?" Robin's voice murmured in her ear. She sighed in resignation. He was good, very good. But it wouldn't do to inflate his ego.

"All right, I suppose."

"All right? That was incredible, and you know it."

"It was a lucky guess. Put me down."

"Say the magic word."

"Please."

"Nope." Maria frowned.

"That's the magic word."

"Nope."

"Well, your arms are bound to get tired soon. I might as well wait."

"I wouldn't bet on that, Princess. I'm pretty strong. And you're not heavy."

"We'll see about that." She crossed her arms and waited stubbornly. But Robin didn't get tired. A minute passed.

"I hope you realize the futility of this," she said presently. "At some point in time, you are going to have to put me down." Robin shrugged. "And it's still night time. You probably want to sleep, right?" Robin shrugged again. "I can sleep here. You can't." She pointed out. A moment of silence passed.

"Princess, you know how things happen for a reason?" Robin asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, why did we get snowed in here?"

"I'm not following."

"What reason could God have for putting us here?"

"Maybe He wanted to give Miss Heliotrope a lesson in patience. I don't know. But aside from the frostbite which is doing better, I don't really mind it that much."

"Really?" he sounded surprised. "You don't mind being forced to spend time with me?

"I don't find you that detestable," she admitted carefully.

"Thank you?" he chuckled. Maria sighed, leaning in to him. She really didn't mind this at all, being in Robin's arms. Of course Miss Heliotrope was probably worried sick. But Maria didn't mind being stuck with Robin.

"I wonder what Miss Heliotrope is up to," she said, trying to ignore the fact that Robin's face was so near to hers.

"Sleeping fitfully, I imagine," Robin said.

"I don't see why she'd be worried," Maria said finally, a pleasant thought coming to her.

"What do you mean? It's Miss Heliotrope. She's bound to be worried."

"Yes, but I'm with you. Surely she knows you would keep me safe."

"I'm afraid that's exactly why Miss Heliotrope would be worried."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's what you said earlier. You and me, together in the same cave overnight? She's not worried about your life. She's worried about your reputation."

"Oh, not this again." Maria sighed. "I don't see why she should be worried. It's not like you're my beau or anything." Even though she wished he was.

"Right." Robin said, her words resounding in his ears. It's not like she was interested in him. Gently, he set her down on her feet. "We'd better get some sleep," he muttered, trying not to sound too dejected.

"Yes," Maria agreed, confused by his sudden change of demeanor. Robin walked back over to the corner of the cave. Maria heard his footsteps, steady and solid. She heard him slump to the ground.

Robin's bowler hat slid down over his eyes. He exhaled, inwardly scolding himself for being so stupid as to get his hopes up. He sat back, hands behind his head, wondering why in the world he had ever thought Maria was interested in him.

And then there was a warmth beside him, and Maria leaned into him, exhausted. Robin's arm dropped around her shoulders. She did care for him, if only in a friendly way. He would have to be satisfied with that.

A/N: Dear reader,

First of all, thank you for reading this chapter! I don't know about you, but Maria and Robin are driving me crazy. Oh well. As all Princess Bride lovers know, if you rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles. We'll have to be patient. Speaking of patience, I applaud you for yours. You have been infinitely gracious about my slow updates. I thank you for that. And in the event that this is the last chapter I write before Christmas, I wish you a merry Christmas! While this story is relatively Christmas themed, I'm afraid it will not be complete in time for Christmas (of this year, anyway). At any rate, excuse my blathering, and thank you for reading!

Yours merrily,

Ponygirl7


	16. As You Wish

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Robin's eyes fluttered open. Light was peeping into the cave; it was sunrise. He glanced down at Maria, who was sleeping soundly, curled up next to him. He couldn't help but smile at how blissful she looked, with no cares to trouble her, no hurt, no pain, nothing. Just her and sweet sleep. She could be fierce, yes; Robin had been on the wrong end of her fierceness many a time. But when her brown eyes weren't blazing, they were twinkling merrily. Twinkling with warmth and possibility. Several times, Robin had seen something else in those eyes…a spark of…of _something_. But he must have imagined it. No, he must have imagined it. Maria's words echoed in his ears:

"It's not like you're my beau or anything."

Robin swallowed hard. His heart hurt within him, a sharp hurt. He had been wounded many times; as a hunter, it goes with the territory. But he'd been able to justify those. The knife had cut him because he wasn't careful. The wolf had attacked him because he was attacking it. It made sense. And so he would recuperate and move on with his life.

But this…this was different. It wasn't like Maria was intending to hurt him. She was stating a fact. Since when had facts hurt him? He exhaled shakily. Since he had dared to dream. Since he had given way to wishing. He squared his jaw. How could mere words _hurt_ so much?

Robin stood, removing his arm from around Maria's shoulders. He walked over to the cave's entrance. Already, the snow was beginning to melt. It was getting warmer outside, and the sun was rising. Soon they would return to their homes. Maria would return to the magnificent Merriweather Manor with its silken curtains, priceless paintings, and high back leather chairs. Robin would return to the torch-lit De Noir village where the rooms were adorned with nothing more than mounted animal heads. Robin would return to his hunting and Maria would return to her classical French needlepoint. She was a lady; that was obvious. He was no gentleman; that was also painfully obvious.

Oh, why did he dwell on it? Thinking about his relationship with Maria (or the lack thereof) would only drive the dagger further into his heart. He gritted his teeth. He was being melodramatic. This would not do. He must be a man. He must not complain. He must do what is right and what is necessary but nothing more. He must not be selfish. He must do what is good for Maria, no matter how difficult for him.

"Good morning," Maria's musical voice floated through his head.

"Good morning," he replied, not turning. "We'll be able to dig out quite easily today."

Maria frowned. Robin was being awfully cold today. What was wrong? Had she said something? He wasn't even turning around. Perhaps he was just in a bad mood. She arose and walked over to him.

"How did you sleep?" That was a normal enough conversation prompt, wasn't it? Yet Maria felt so out of place saying it. What was wrong with her today?

"Well. You?"

"Like an infant," she admitted. "Did you wake up long ago?"

"No, just a little bit ago."

"Ah." She nodded. They stood in silence. Why wasn't Robin joking? Why wasn't Robin grinning? Was this truly Robin De Noir, or his starched, polite, reserved evil twin? "Well, shall we start digging?"

"Yes, I suppose." Robin replied. And so they dug. They did so with spare conversation, saying only what needed to be said. But they worked quickly. Soon they were up in the open air again. And how beautiful it was! In the cool morning light, the blanket of snow shimmered, almost gossamer, like fairies' wings. The bare, slender trees curved upward, standing firm in the aftermath of the storm. And yet though the scene was breathtaking, it also posed a problem. The snowfall in total was almost three feet, but dense and thick. It would not be easy to walk home. Maria pointed this out.

"Never mind that," Robin said. "I'll go first; you can follow. It'll be much easier once I've worn a path."

"But that'll be difficult for you!"

"I can handle it." He grinned, but it held no humor. Maria nodded and turned away, hoping her face didn't betray how upset she was. Where was the Robin who would've made a snide comment, who would've boasted about his superiority and strength? What had she done? For surely she did this to him…but how? Her heart ached to think that she had injured him. Her eyes welled up, and despite her determination _not_ to cry, a rebellious tear slipped down onto her flushed cheek.

"Are you coming?" She turned. Robin had leapt down into the snow and was carving a path. He marched back to her and held out a hand. She quickly wiped her eyes and took his hand, jumping down alongside him.

"Let's go," she said quickly. But his feet did not move. She turned to face him in question.

"You're crying," he said, his voice low, trembling.

"No, I'm not." She spun around and kept walking. But when she had reached the end of Robin's trailblazing, her steps grew increasingly difficult. Before she knew what was happening, Robin's hands were around her waist and pulling her back. He set her down sternly.

"You are not going another step until you tell me what's wrong." His dark eyes left no room for excuses. She looked down at her boots. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't tell him what was truly bothering her. How could she say that she was hurt by his sudden coolness towards her? How could she apologize for whatever she had done to trigger this formality? How could she explain that this was the opposite of what she wanted?

How could she explain that what she really wanted was to grow closer to Robin?

How could she say that she loved him?

She couldn't.

But she was afraid that, despite her most virtuous efforts, it would burst out anyway.

And so she trained her eyes on her boots. Her boots were safe. If she dared look at Robin's eyes…no. She couldn't.

She felt Robin's gentle finger under her chin, sweet but insistent. He lifted her head and, consequentially, her gaze. Her eyes met his.

 _Oh, no_.

Before her mind could tell her no, she flew at Robin, her lips meeting his in a kiss unexpected by both parties. Her arms wrapped around his neck and slowly, his slid around her waist. The tears flowed freely from Maria's eyes now, but it did not matter.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. Maria stepped back, blinking as though coming out of a daydream. Robin looked as though he had just been reanimated after being turned to stone and not quite aware of all his senses yet. They stared at each other for a breathless moment.

Then, slowly, a smile scrawled itself across Robin's handsome face.

Maria's lips, still tingling in shock, turned upward. A twinkle lit her eyes.

"Princess?"

"Robin?"

"I was not expecting that."

"Neither was I, to be honest."

"But I can't say I disliked it."

"Thank you, I suppose?"

"Now, being the dashing lad I am, I am naturally kissed by many young ladies who fancy me, and I'd say this ranked at semi-adequate—" Maria's fist slammed into his face. He staggered back, a grin alighting.

"Dashing lad, my foot." She scoffed. She tried to suppress a smile, but it beamed through her eyes instead.

"And I suppose you've been kissed dozens of times, Princess?" He retorted. She looked at her boots.

"Never, actually," she admitted. Robin chuckled.

"That's a coincidence," he said, "Because in all truth, neither have I." Maria's gaze flew to meet his. He was being sincere. He shrugged.

"I know you may find it hard to believe, but—"

"Please. Your ego ensures you a five foot radius of space between ladies at all times. They'd never want to penetrate it."

"Apparently one did." His eyes gleamed mischievously.

"Oh, let's get back to the house," Maria said, unable to hide the merriment in her eyes.

"As you wish, Princess."

A/N: Beloved reader,

Alleluia! I'm so glad this chapter finally happened, for so many reasons. If you're a Princess Bride fan too, you would have caught the double meaning of Robin's last sentence. But this chapter was already longer than I intended; no use babbling on in this author's note. Oh well. You have my sincerest thanks for reading and my strongest encouragement to review. Thanks you so much for your incredible patience and support!

Love always,

Ponygirl7


	17. Home at Last

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

It was a solemn party that congregated around the table in Moonacre Manor for breakfast. Miss Heliotrope's pale face was drawn together. Her poor, dear Maria could be anywhere. She might even be…no. All hope was not lost yet. Perhaps they would arrive today yet.

Cousin Lillian squeezed Miss Heliotrope's hand supportively. Her heart ached for dear Jane. At such a time like this, was her life to be tormented by yet another fear? But Lillian had resolved to keep her chin up. Robin had seemed a very capable fellow, and his admiration for Maria was undeniable. Surely he of all people would keep her safe. Her gaze fell on Coeur De Noir, whose eyes were glassy.

The poor man was eating dutifully, at Lillian's request that he keep his strength up. But every bite was dry and tasteless. He had lost his wife, and for the longest time his daughter was estranged to him. Now he had her back…but was he to lose his son, too? Nothing gold can stay.

Digweed stood steadfastly in the corner, keeping a stiff upper lip. He was bound and determined to be a comfort and not a burden to Jane—Miss Heliotrope. He really ought not to call her Jane. She was the mistress of the house while Sir Benjamin was away. Yes, she had asked him to, but she probably regretted it today. But, oh, how he longed to know! Did she regret the brief kiss she'd given him? His cheek burned with recollection. Then he shook his head. Digweed, old boy, you're too old for this! He was being nonsensical.

Marmaduke came to clear away the dishes, but there were hardly any dishes to clear away. He pursed his lips, disapproving.

"In times of sorrow, it is all the more essential to one's physical condition to consume any nutrition provided. I beg of you all, dine!" Miss Heliotrope winced as though she had a headache.

"Forgive us, Marmaduke. It looks good, truly it does, but my stomach will not agree with anything at the present. It is shameful to waste all this. Digweed, Marmaduke, come and sit. Help us make good use of this fare." She did not have to ask twice. Both men were hungry and more than willing to assist in the effort. But as the minutes passed, an oppressive blanket of silence settled upon them, smothering any comforting conversation. And the sun that rose higher with each passing moment threatened to strangle any hopes they might have of Robin and Maria's welfare.

Meanwhile, the two youth in question were just reaching the edges of the Moonacre grounds. They walked slowly and silently, both tired and cold and hungry. But their eyes were bright, for a new seed of hope had been planted in their hearts. Robin plowed through the snow and Maria followed. Their minds raced though their feet did not.

Robin wondered if he was still dreaming. But no, he could feel the cold winds chapping his face. He could feel the snow crunching under his boots. He could smell the sharpness of winter in the woods. He was awake. Maria had kissed him. How was it possible? He had no idea. He decided not to question it. For now.

Maria's cheeks were bright red, partly because of the exertion, partly because of the cold, and partly because she had kissed Robin. Well, there was nothing to be done. She could not take it back now. Now he knew…and he didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, in fact. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Despite being snowed in, despite nearly freezing to death, despite nearly starving to death (well, all right, maybe not quite starving), despite everything, some good had been found. And the good that had come of this little escapade immeasurably outweighed the evil!

They approached the manor, trudging up the front steps. Maria took a deep breath and glanced over at Robin. He grinned, sliding an arm around her shoulders. She nearly melted into him but somehow managed to stay on her feet. All was well. They were safe.

Maria knocked.

Inside, Wrolf growled. Miss Heliotrope exhaled shakily.

"I declare, what _is_ it, Wrolf?" The black lion leapt up and dashed to the door. Miss Heliotrope stiffened. Everyone froze. Then all at once, they erupted from their seats and surged to the door. Coeur De Noir opened it. Robin and Maria stood in the doorway. The women gasped, the men sighed.

"Maria, Maria, my darling Maria, come in, come in!" Miss Heliotrope practically dragged the girl inside and gave her a crushing embrace. Coeur De Noir enveloped Robin in the hug only a grateful father can bestow. Hugs and kisses were granted all around, until Robin noticed Maria beginning to sway on her feet. He braced her, slipping an arm around her back.

"Let's get you a seat." He delivered her into a luxurious velvet chair, collapsing into another beside her.

"Marmaduke," Lillian said quickly, "Would you please bring some food?" He bowed.

"With pleasure." And he was gone in a blur. Digweed helped Miss Heliotrope to a seat, standing protectively behind her. Coeur De Noir and Lillian sat on the warm hearth. Wrolf served as a footrest for Maria's feet.

"Are you both quite well?" Lillian inquired, for no one else seemed able to speak. Maria nodded weakly.

"I am now." Marmaduke returned with savory treats that Robin and Maria gobbled up. For once, Miss Heliotrope didn't correct either of the children on proper dining etiquette. When they had scarfed down everything possible, they sat back in relief.

Little by little, the adults extracted the story of the snowstorm and Loveday's grotto. Naturally, Robin and Maria omitted certain parts of the story, parts that they saved up in their hearts and cherished, parts that could only be told by a flashing of eyes and a secret smile.

By the time everyone understood what had happened, Miss Heliotrope had finally gotten ahold of her senses.

"We must get you to bed right away," she declared. "And you must sleep. I will not have either of you falling ill." Maria and Robin were in no shape to disagree with her. Maria made her way up to her bedroom, and Robin retired to the guest chamber. There they slept.

Robin dreamt of copper curls, a twinkling of chestnut eyes, and a merry laugh.

Maria dreamt of a jaunty grin, an arched eyebrow, and a low chuckle.

And for now, all was well.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you for reading this chapter! While this would be a pleasant place to stop, I must inform you that there is yet one more event I wish to include in this story; we are not finished yet. At any rate, thank you for sticking with this story! Your patience is truly admirable. I remain ever your

Ponygirl7


	18. The Loveliest Idea

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria stretched out under the quilt. Ah, but she'd had a good nap. She opened one eye. Gray winter light was streaming through her window. How long had she slept? Was it morning already? The warmth of her soft blankets was luscious. She had no strong inclination to leave, but she would have to get up at some point. Being awake was so tedious.

Slothfully, she arose, leaving her comfortable warm bed and dressed. She was too tired to put much effort into her toiletries, so she French braided her hair down the side, splashed her face with water, and called it good. More awake now, Maria glanced out the window. It was late in the morning. Had she missed breakfast? The thought of missing Marmaduke's scrumptious treats prompted her to hurry, ducking out of her room and marching quickly down toward the dining room. Midstride, she caught a glimpse of the adults in the piano room and turned to greet them.

"Oh, Maria dear, how are you?" Miss Heliotrope stood and came forward. "You've slept a while."

"I feel fine. Quite well rested, thank you. Did I…did I miss breakfast?" Coeur De Noir guffawed.

"Stranded in a blizzard and now she's home and her only concern is food," He chuckled.

"Now, now, don't tease the child," Lillian admonished him gently. "Of course she's hungry." Turning to Maria, she said, "We already ate, but Marmaduke was keeping yours warm. Perhaps Miss Heliotrope will go find Digweed and ask him to fetch it for you." Maria didn't see why it was necessary for Miss Heliotrope to find Digweed when Maria could just as easily do that, as it was her breakfast after all. But Miss Heliotrope smiled a little and inclined her head.

"That I shall do. Maria, do have a seat." She walked off at a pace just a bit faster than her usual. Maria frowned slightly. She glanced at Lillian, who winked almost imperceptibly. Then it dawned on Maria: Lillian must know of Miss Heliotrope's secret admiration for Digweed. And so she had devised a way for them to meet privately. What a clever lady! Maria smiled back.

"Is Robin up yet?" she asked. She hoped he had not gone back to the De Noir Village.

"No, he's still snoring." Coeur De Noir assured her. "I imagine he'll be up soon. It's high time we went home." Maria's eyes fell.

"Of course." She nodded absently. Lillian seemed to notice her disappointment.

"Perhaps we could have a dinner party?" Lillian proposed brightly. "I know I'm not the host, so I cannot offer it, but might I suggest something of the sort?" Maria's eyes lit up.

"Yes, indeed! We must! Then you can meet the rest of the De Noirs. Coeur De Noir, what say you?" The ladies turned expectantly to him. His bushy eyebrows rose.

"I would be glad to attend such a gathering," he said. "The De Noirs have not had a party in a while."

"Oh!" Lillian exclaimed suddenly, clasping her hands. "I've just had the loveliest idea. What about a Christmas ball? With dancing and music!"

"As long as there's food, you can count on the De Noirs to be there," Coeur De Noir chuckled. "Although I'm afraid I haven't danced in years." Lillian's eyes twinkled.

"Why doesn't that surprise me? Well, we must practice then."

"Would you like me to play the piano?" Maria offered, rising to cross over to the pianoforte.

"Oh, right now?" Coeur De Noir asked. Lillian blushed.

"Perhaps Maria would be a better partner. I'm partial to the piano myself, rather than dancing." She looked to Maria, who bit her lip.

"I like the piano. Plus, you two are nearer in height and age than I am. It's a better matched couple." Plus she was afraid Coeur De Noir would step on her toes. Maria plopped down upon the piano bench and struck up a lively tune. She watched as Lillian and Coeur De Noir awkwardly joined hands. Lillian was speaking, but Maria couldn't hear. Coeur De Noir seemed to understand, and they began to dance. After a moment, Lillian turned to Maria.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but do you think you could play a bit slower?"

"It's my fault anyway," Coeur De Noir said. "I keep messing up."

"No, I'm a bit rusty too. This is good for me." Lillian insisted. So Maria played slower. She watched them dance. They were a well matched couple, indeed. Coeur De Noir was thick and dark and sturdy, while Lillian was light and smooth and lithe. It almost made Maria wonder…

"Morning, Maria." Feathers tickled her neck. Maria smiled. Who else could it be?

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," she replied, making a conscious effort to keep a steady tempo. Her hands didn't need to speed up with her heart.

"Why are they dancing?" Robin whispered.

"I'll tell you in a minute. Let me finish this song." It was hard to focus on the piano when she wanted to spin around and talk with Robin. She toiled on with what seemed like unending patience until finally the song came to a close. Lillian curtsied, Coeur De Noir bowed, and they looked rather elegant as a whole.

"Well done!" Maria clapped for them.

"I'm impressed," Lillian said. "It must be muscle memory. After the first few mistakes, you seemed to remember how to dance."

"It helped that I had a good partner," Coeur De Noir admitted. "I'm just glad I didn't break your toe or pull your arm out of socket." Lillian laughed a ringing laugh.

"So what's with the dancing?" Robin inquired.

"We're having a Christmas ball!" Maria exclaimed. "That is, if Miss Heliotrope agrees…where can Miss Heliotrope be?" she declared. "She's been gone a while." Lillian cleared her throat.

"I'm sure she's fine. Perhaps we ought to withdraw to the dining room, and we'll get you and Robin your breakfast." This seemed agreeable to all parties, so they made their way to the dining room. Lillian and Coeur De Noir led, while Robin and Maria hung back. The adults didn't seem to notice, they were talking so gaily.

"How are you this morning?" Maria asked. He looked down at her with those deep eyes of his. She had to steady her breath.

"I'm all right. How's your hand?" He took it and examined it. "Doesn't look bad at all."

"I haven't noticed it. If I was able to play piano, I suppose it has healed pretty well." She tried to ignore the feel of his hand on hers. "I wonder—what is that?" she stopped. Robin listened.

"It's coming from the library. Shall we investigate?" Maria nodded. They crept down the hall and Maria peered into the library. She immediately pulled back, motioning for him to follow her back. When they were a safe distance away, she turned to him. "What's that big smile for?" he asked. She couldn't keep from grinning.

"It was Miss Heliotrope and Digweed. I think…I think they may be engaged!" She threw her arms around Robin excitedly. Oh, what joy! At last, Miss Heliotrope had found love! Robin scooped Maria up in his arms.

"This calls for a celebration!" he said. She hushed him.

"No! They don't know we know. We must let them tell us. Now put me down." He sighed.

"As you wish." He kissed her forehead lightly. "Let's go get some food."

A/N: Beloved reader,

Thank you so much for reading this chapter! I apologize profusely for the extensive break from updating. Life can be so wearisome. I cannot thank you enough for your patience in bearing with me, nor can I express to you how much your reviews mean to me. I was glad to make this chapter a happy one, and I believe you can see a little more clearly into the future now. I remain your faithful

Ponygirl7


	19. Engagement in the Air

**A Moonacre Fanfiction** Peace on Earth

Maria and Robin went to go find their own food. It was apparent that Miss Heliotrope had been distracted by a certain special someone and had forgotten all about Maria's breakfast, so Maria and Robin made their way back to Marmaduke's kitchen.

"Salutations!" the cook greeted them. Robin frowned.

"He's saying hello," Maria interpreted.

"Oh. Hello." Robin replied. "Does he have to use long words to make up for his shortness?" Maria swatted at his arm.

"He's an intellectual. And he's vertically challenged."

"Due to my close proximity, I am able to perceive the sound emanating from your vocal chords, you know," Marmaduke looked up from his potato chopping.

"That was a bit excessive," Maria chuckled. "Please forgive us if we've offended you." Marmaduke's pointed white cap bounced up and down as he guffawed.

"It is quite difficult to offend one such as myself, Moon Princess. I am short—or vertically challenged, whichever you prefer. But my kitchen produces the best dishes you can find, and I am magical, so I believe most hard critics are simply jealous. As to you, you never meant offense, and Robin…" Marmaduke paused to eye Robin up and down. "I shall chalk it up to your mischievous attitude."

"Thank you…sir?" Robin glanced at Maria, who only smiled.

"Forgive us for disturbing you in your work, but we only came—"

"Your breakfast is on the counter over there," Marmaduke pointed with a foot while his hands blurred over the potatoes.

"Thank you, Marmaduke. You're the best." Maria said.

"You're welcome, and I know."

"And you think I have an ego?" Robin scoffed, carrying the plates as they ducked out of the kitchen.

"I don't see you baking any crêpes," Maria countered.

"So I suppose now you've reserved all your dances at this Christmas ball for Marmaduke?" Robin said with a half grin.

"Not if someone else asks me first," Maria said, her smile showing through her voice. "Now come _on_ , let's go eat. I'm hungry." They wove through the corridors and came to the dining room, where they eagerly dug into their breakfast. Marmaduke had outdone himself. Steamed broccoli, cheesy omelet, watermelon, cantaloupe, and honeydew balls, and fluffy pancakes with maple syrup drizzled on top. A pitcher of creamy milk was already on the table, diminished by half.

"It's a wonder Marmaduke isn't married," Maria declared, taking a cool drink of milk.

"Hey, I can cook," Robin said defensively.

"Oh?" Maria's eyes danced with amusement.

"Sure!" Robin said, racking his brain for an example. "I can…pick apples. And milk cows. And kill deer."

"Robin, that's not cooking. Can you bake a cake?"

"Well, I mean, last time I tried—"

"Can you make apple dumplings?"

"Can you?"

"Yes. Can make a cherry pie, Billy Boy, Billy Boy, can you make a cherry pie, charming Billy?" She sang.

"Is that a song?"

"Oh, you uncultured swine."

"I resent that."

"Does that make it any less true?"

"Well…no. But I'm _your_ uncultured swine."

"True." Maria speared a broccoli with precision. "What are we doing today?"

"I don't know." Robin was attempting to fit an entire pancake in his mouth.

"Oh, Robin." Maria sighed. "Out of all the dashing young hunters in the forest, I get you. Serves me right."

"I find that offensive."

"I find that I don't care."

"A bit feisty today, aren't we?" Robin arched an eyebrow.

"We are," Maria sighed happily, pushing back her plate.

"And why is that, pray, madam?"

"It's mademoiselle, and it's likely because I am terribly happy."

"And why should you be so happy?" Robin stood, pushing his chair in.

"Because Miss Heliotrope and Digweed are—or, might be—engaged!" She grinned up at him as he strode over to her side of the table.

"And?"

"And we may be having a winter ball!" Robin stood directly behind her chair. She tilted her head back to grin at him.

"And?"

"And...I am in love with a very handsome but arrogant uncultured swine." Robin chuckled, but his heart swelled to hear her words.

"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment."

"As you should."

"Well then, thank you for your generosity."

"I am all kindness, aren't I?" She bounced to her feet. "Shall we go find your father and Cousin Lillian?"

"One moment," Robin looked down at her glowing cheeks and bright eyes. A few wispy copper curls that had escaped her braid framed her face. He tilted his head slightly. "May I kiss you?" Maria's eyes twinkled.

"You may."

And so he did.

Footsteps rang out through the corridor. Robin and Maria stepped back quickly just as Cousin Lillian burst into the room.

"Dears, I think you'd better come; Jane—ah, Miss Heliotrope and Digweed have some news." She glanced back and forth between Maria and Robin, a smile flickering across her lips.

"Yes! Of course! We'll be right there," Maria replied. Lillian nodded.

"Very good." She turned and speed-walked away.

"I told you!" Maria squealed, hopping up and down like an excited bunny.

"Yes, all right, settle down," Robin chuckled, slinging an arm across her shoulders. "Let's go hear it for ourselves before we start any rumors." So they made their way down to the piano room, where everyone was gathered. Miss Heliotrope turned at their arrival, blinking a bit nervously behind her spectacles. Robin and Maria stood behind the couch where Lillian and Coeur De Noir were seated. All eyes turned expectantly to Miss Heliotrope and Digweed, both of whom paled slightly at the attention.

Maria saw Digweed squeeze Miss Heliotrope's hand. She smiled. Miss Heliotrope swallowed bravely.

"I would—I would like to announce, that is, we, Digweed and I—we would like announce our…" She looked to Digweed. He flushed scarlet as a bed of poppies.

"That'll be our engagement. This lovely lady has accepted to be my wife."

Everything was still for a moment.

And then everyone was clapping and squealing and leaping for joy. 'Everyone' being Lillian and Maria. Robin and his father grinned, of course.

"Splendid, splendid," Coeur De Noir repeated, punctuating each word with a nod. Robin laughed and clapped his hands. Maria hugged Robin, then Lillian, then Miss Heliotrope, then Digweed, then even Coeur De Noir. And Coeur De Noir was not a man to hug, most days. Lillian kissed her cousin on both cheeks, smiling dreamily. Miss Heliotrope was blinking rapidly and sputtering, while ruddy Digweed beamed.

"When will you marry?" Maria asked once they had settled down.

"I—I don't know," Miss Heliotrope said, looking to Digweed.

"Soon," was all he could say.

"I know!" Lillian clapped her hands together in delight. "You can announce your engagement at the ball! Then everyone can come to your wedding."

"When is this ball?" Miss Heliotrope asked.

"Whenever you like!" Lillian said.

"Tomorrow," Digweed declared stoutly.

"Tomorrow? But we'd have to…no, actually that's perfect!" Lillian said, eyes shining. "Then you can get married on Sunday; on Christmas! Maria, would it be possible to get Moonacre Manor ready for a ball by tomorrow?" Maria took a deep breath.

"Marmaduke?" she called out. The cook appeared in a blur. Maria explained the situation. "Would it be possible to have a feast ready by then?" Marmaduke waved it off.

"Piece of cake, no pun intended. I shall commence the preparations immediately." And he sped off.

"Well," Maria said, "if Marmaduke can prepare an entire feast by tomorrow, I have no doubt that we can clean and decorate for a ball by then."

"Perfect!" Lillian was practically shimmering. "Let's get to work."

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you so, so much for continuing with me thus far! I have been out of the country for a while and unable to update. My sincerest apologies for taking *forever* to write. Ah, but aren't you glad Miss Heliotrope and Digweed are engaged? I think it's rather cute, to be honest. They're both rather bumbling and blushing. That said, I thank you again for reading and encourage you to review! I remain ever your

Ponygirl7


	20. A Flurry of Preparation

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

The entire morning and afternoon was spent cleaning the manor. I sha'n't bore you with every piece of furniture they dusted, nor shall I relate every floor tile waxed, every shrub trimmed, or every window scrubbed. Marmaduke served turkey and cheese paninis for lunch, speedily delivering them to each worker throughout the house. At last, by midafternoon, the house was in a much better state, thanks to a most effective combination of excitement and elbow grease.

The workers convened in the front of the house by the fireplace, slumping onto the chairs with groans of fatigue.

"Well, good work all," Lillian congratulated them. Her voice was bright despite the long hours of toil.

"What else is there to be done?" Maria asked.

"We'll have find suitable clothing," Miss Heliotrope said. "And of course notify the De Noir villagers so they may prepare."

"I can do that," Robin volunteered. "Some fresh air sounds good right about now."

"I can accompany you," Maria said with a grin. "I'll be your bodyguard." Robin chuckled.

"Perhaps I ought to run into town," Lillian said thoughtfully. "I'm afraid I didn't bring a ball gown with me."

"I can drive you," Coeur De Noir offered. "Can't say I know much about gowns or shops, but I can drive a buggy." Lillian thanked him with a smile.

"Good!" Maria beamed. "And Miss Heliotrope and Digweed can hold down the fort here."

"But Maria dear," Miss Heliotrope frowned, "Please don't stay too long. Robin, make sure you get her back by sundown. I don't want to worry tonight."

"Don't worry," Robin reassured the tutor. "We won't dilly dally."

"We'd better get a move on then," Coeur De Noir said. "The sun sets earlier in winter. Lillian, shall we?" And so they all went their separate ways. Coeur De Noir and Lillian took the buggy into town, while Maria and Robin headed off for the De Noir village.

Maria pulled on her fur coat as she stepped outside. The snow had settled into a thick white blanket, shimmering in the cold afternoon sunlight. There was no stinging wind now to chill Maria's bones, for which she was eternally grateful.

"My bodyguard, eh?" Robin said, casting a sideways glance at her.

"Would you rather I'd stayed?" Maria raised an eyebrow.

"I suppose not," he grunted, shuffling through the snow like a lumbering bear. "But what would I need a bodyguard for?"

"For all the young ladies just dying to ambush you," Maria grinned. "I've got to fend them off."

"I've been avoiding their advances just fine on my own, thanks."

"Like anyone could be attracted to you," Maria scoffed.

"I'm the most sought after bachelor in De Noir village!" He declared proudly.

"You're hardly a bachelor," Maria laughed, her breath turning to frost. "Bachelors are old and grumpy and ugly—oh wait."

"Hey," Robin protested. "Well by that logic, you're a spinster. An old maid."

"Nothing wrong with being an old maid if I'm respectable," Maria lifted her chin. "Besides, Miss Heliotrope hadn't married her whole life, and now Digweed proposed. Who knows? Maybe I'll marry at sixty."

"I'm not going to let that happen," Robin said.

"No?"

"Of course not. My father wants grandchildren."

Maria's cheeks flushed, but she couldn't hide her smile. Robin smirked.

"You know," Maria said, "your father seems to like Lillian. He doesn't strike me as a person who would offer to drive any lady to buy a dress. And when they were dancing earlier—"

"Are you changing the subject?" His eyes twinkled.

"No! Well, sort of, but now you're changing the subject. Don't you think Coeur De Noir and Lillian would make a darling couple?"

"I don't believe in matchmaking," Robin said carefully. "But I wouldn't be opposed to having a mother."

"Does that mean you approve of Lillian?"

"It _means_ I think we should mind our own business," Robin admonished gently. Maria rolled her eyes.

"This _would_ be our business. But if you don't want to talk about it, we can change the subject. What is your opinion on classical French needlepoint?" Robin glared at her amused smile.

"I think it's very…classical."

"How incredibly profound of you."

Meanwhile, Coeur De Noir and Lillian had reached the town and were driving down the main street.

"I don't suppose you'd know the best shop?" Lillian asked hopefully.

"Miss Lillian, I haven't shopped for dresses a day in my life." Coeur De Noir chuckled. "All my gowns are handmade by a friend." This coaxed a laugh from Lillian.

"That's all right. We can browse a bit. I'm sorry to take your time—"

"Nonsense!" Coeur De Noir waved it off. "This is a treat, to walk around town with such a lovely lady." Lillian didn't even try to hide her pleased smile.

"You are indeed a gentleman," she patted his arm gratefully as the buggy slowed to a halt. "I'm excited to meet the other De Noirs, especially if they're as kind as yourself."

"Kind? Hm." Coeur De Noir climbed off the buggy and offered his arm to assist Lillian. "I wasn't always very kind, you know." Lillian hopped down lightly with his aid.

"I've heard the story," she admitted. "But I find it hard to believe you could be bitter and unfeeling."

"Me too," he said, tying up the horses. "But when Maria came, she turned Moonacre Valley upside down. Clever girl, that one." They strolled down the sidewalk.

"I take it you approve of her and Robin?" Lillian said, hoping she wasn't being too bold.

"She's the best thing that happened to him," Coeur De Noir replied a bit gruffly. Men seem to find it easier to talk about relationships if they act a little coarser. Still, he managed the words. "I couldn't have chosen better for him."

"I agree," Lillian said, sighing at the romantic idea of young love. "Oh, this might be a good shop." So they ducked inside. It was a good shop; it even provided little sweets for those waiting, which the gentlemen took full advantage of. Lillian went behind a curtain with an assistant as they tried on one thing and another while Coeur De Noir munched on a chocolate chip scone.

At last, she emerged from the curtain in her old dress, holding a box.

"Success!" she announced with joy. Coeur De Noir wiped the cookie crumbs from his beard.

"Why couldn't I see it?" He sounded like a disappointed child. Lillian chuckled at the thought.

"You mustn't see it until tomorrow! It'll be a surprise. Here." She reached up with her handkerchief and wiped a smudge of chocolate off his chin.

"Thank you," he said warmly, looking down at her. She lowered her eyes quickly.

"You're welcome." They stood for a moment awkwardly. "Well, we'd better get back," Lillian said. "We'll need a good night's rest before tomorrow."

"Of course," Coeur De Noir agreed, trying not to sound reluctant. He offered his arm to her, and they left the shop. The ride home was also mildly awkward. Conversation ebbed and flowed like the tide, while their internal thoughts were buzzing so loud they were sure the other could hear. I shall leave it up to your imagination what they were thinking of; I'm sure you can form a deduction.

A/N: My dear reader,

Thank you so much for reading this installment of Peace on Earth! I hope you are enjoying it thus far. Thank you for your continued support both in reading this story and writing reviews; you truly make my day.

Love and blessings,

Ponygirl7


	21. A Vision in Taffeta

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria and Robin walked through the woods, shadows sliding across the snow.

"It's nearly sundown; we _must_ hurry, or Miss Heliotrope will have a fit," Maria said anxiously. Robin lengthened his strides.

"At least we're not in a blizzard," he pointed out. "Aside from it being cold, it's actually rather nice."

"It's beautiful," Maria agreed, looking around the forest.

"We're almost to the manor anyway. And I imagine Miss Heliotrope has other things to preoccupy her thoughts."

"I suppose so," Maria was still tickled that Digweed had proposed to Miss Heliotrope. Then a thought occurred to her. "Robin, you'll probably have to go home tonight, won't you? There's no reason for you to stay another night."

"Are you trying to get rid of me already, Princess?" Robin chuckled.

"Of course not," she said stoutly, "But you didn't answer my question."

"Yes, I'll go home. Father will, too."

"But will you be able to find your way? It'll be dark, and—"

"I was born and bred in these woods, Princess," Robin dismissed her fears. "Don't worry about me." They reached the edge of the forest, the manor in sight.

"Do I hear a carriage?" Maria cocked her head.

"I believe so. I can see the buggy." Robin slowed down. "Well, I probably won't see you again until the ball tomorrow."

"Yes. I'll have to spend the morning getting ready." She slowed down too.

"May I reserve your first dance?" he asked, lips quirking up in a smile.

"You may," she replied, eyes drifting off to the horizon. "Are you a good dancer?"

"You'll just have to see," he replied. "Now, as we are almost to the manor and I'll have to drop you off at the door, may I have a good night kiss?" Maria was so caught up in admiring the sunset, a frosty watercolor gradient of pinks and blues, that she almost didn't hear him. Robin's gaze trailed over her copper curls, glowing warmly. The curves of her face seemed softer in the evening light. He admired her chestnut eyes, big and dreamy. She blinked, as though jolted back to reality.

"Hm? Oh, of course." She held out her hand. He chuckled. His princess was so distracted by a sunset she couldn't give him a proper kiss. Oh well. He took her hand and raised it to his lips gallantly. And they say the De Noirs aren't gentlemen!

"Good night, Princess," he held her hand just a moment longer before letting it fall.

"Good night, Robin." She smiled fondly at him.

"Robin? Robin my boy, are you around here?" Coeur De Noir's voice echoed over the snow. Robin stepped back quickly.

"Yes, Father." He turned to Maria, dark eyes gleaming. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll look forward to it." She curtsied as he bowed in the dim twilight. Then she made her way up to the door as Coeur De Noir came into view.

"Ah, g'night, Maria," he nodded in acknowledgement.

"Good night," she waved. "We'll see you tomorrow!" She closed the door behind her. Lillian had just come in, it seemed, hanging her wrap on the brass coat stand.

"Did you succeed in your endeavors to find a dress?" Maria asked. Lillian looked up.

"I beg your pardon? Oh. Yes, I did. It's perfectly lovely."

"I'm glad. Well, I suppose I'll retire. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes…" Lillian's eyes were directed at Maria, yet she didn't seem to be looking _at_ Maria. "Coeur De Noir is a dear man, is he not?" Maria raised an eyebrow. Could Lillian be interested in Coeur De Noir?

"Indeed, he is." She eyed Lillian, whose youthful features betrayed only wistful contemplation.

"Yes." Lillian sighed. "Well, good night. Sweet dreams!" Maria returned the sentiment, then climbed up to her bedroom. How odd Lillian was acting! Was it possible that she had fallen in love with Coeur De Noir after just a few days? Oh, but she should take Robin's advice. It wasn't really her business anyway. When she came to her room she changed into her night shift and slid into bed. Her last comprehensive thought was that she didn't have anything to wear for the ball tomorrow, and what a difficulty it would be to find something suitable.

The next morning, Maria awoke at the sound of wood sliding. She frowned, sitting up groggily. Light was streaming in her window, and it took her eyes a minute to adjust. But when she could see, she had to blink twice to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

"Loveday?"

"Good morning, Maria," Loveday smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry to wake you, but Miss Heliotrope said to wake you up."

"No, it's no matter. But…you're home!" Maria paused to yawn. "When did you get home?"

"Last night; it was very late, and we didn't want to wake anyone."

"Oh." Maria slid out of bed. "How was the honeymoon?"

"Perfectly splendid," Loveday sighed. "You have a wonderful uncle, did you know?"

"I did know," Maria grinned. "I'm glad you had a good time. Now you're home to stay?"

"Home to stay," Loveday affirmed. "What a lovely word 'home' is."

"Yes. Oh, but you're just in time for the ball! Did Miss Heliotrope tell you?"

"A ball? No, I didn't hear. I _did_ hear, however, that Miss Heliotrope and Digweed are engaged!" Loveday bit her lip to keep from grinning too hard. "I simply cannot believe it!"

"It's true," Maria said, stretching. "I'm thrilled for them. And Lillian suggested—oh, do you know about Miss Heliotrope's cousin, Lillian?"

"Yes, I met her this morning; she's ever so sweet and bright."

"Mm. She suggested we host a Christmas ball at which Miss Heliotrope and Digweed could announce their engagement. Robin and I invited all the De Noirs yesterday. It's taking place tonight."

"That explains why the manor is positively glistening," Loveday declared. "And that's actually perfect for my gift!"

"Your…gift?" Maria echoed. Loveday nodded with the eagerness of a puppy. She gestured to a box she had set on Maria's white wicker chair.

"Loveday, you shouldn't have!" Maria said, rushing over to open it. Loveday chuckled as her niece lifted the lid and drew back the tissue paper. Maria gave a little squeal of delight.

Inside was a gown of tiffany blue taffeta. She gently lifted it up, admiring the workmanship. A layer of clear chiffon settled like a whisper over the skirt, icy silver patterns trailing over it for a snowflake effect. The bodice was tasteful, and the sweetheart neckline was clean, slanting up to the shoulders.

"Oh… _Loveday_." Maria breathed. "It's…" she looked up at her aunt. "I don't have words." Loveday's face broadened in a pleased smile.

"This ball is perfect timing; you can wear it tonight." Maria nodded enthusiastically.

"How can I ever thank you? Oh, _Loveday!_ " She laid the dress on her bed and threw her arms around Loveday.

"You're welcome, my dear. You'll be a vision in taffeta tonight. Now then, we'd better go downstairs, or Miss Heliotrope will scold us." Maria was reluctant to leave the dress, but she knew that Loveday was right. So she slipped a robe over her night shift and skipped downstairs, hardly able to contain her glee for tonight.

A/N: Beloved reader,

Many thanks for sticking with me this far! My favorite part of this chapter was imagining Maria's new dress. I only wish it actually existed! This story is not quite finished (obviously) but please feel free to start dreaming up potential future Moonacre fanfictions. I have the inkling of an idea for Sir Benjamin and Loveday having a baby (thereby making Robin and Maria aunts and uncles!) but that is still undecided. Let me know what you think in the reviews!

Your faithful

Ponygirl7


	22. There'll Be No Living with Her

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Marmaduke's breakfast was delicious, as always; but the real treat was the addition of Sir Benjamin and Loveday. Maria was tickled to see his uncle interact with his new wife. They were so easy and natural with each other. Miss Heliotrope rattled on about her engagement to Digweed, Maria and Robin's getting lost in the blizzard, Coeur De Noir accompanying Lillian to town, and the upcoming ball. Uncle Benjamin and Loveday endured her monologue with the patience of saints.

Maria told Miss Heliotrope and Lillian about the dress, both of whom insisted on seeing it the moment breakfast was finished. The morning would be spent bathing and preparing for the ball. Maria found the preparation wearisome, but she knew the end result would be worth it.

Presently they finished breakfast, complimented Marmaduke, and the women migrated upstairs to examine Maria's dress.

"I declare," Miss Heliotrope said, after sputtering various unintelligible exclamations, "Loveday, you have a fine eye. Maria, you will be exquisite."

"The belle of the ball," Lillian agreed. "You won't want for dance partners."

"I have a feeling she wouldn't have lacked them anyway," Loveday said, an amused twinkle in her eye. "But let us see your dress, Lillian; I'm sure you'll be twirling the night away, too. You seem about my father's age. I'm sure he would—ah, but you've already met, haven't you? Well, I'm sure he'd be overjoyed to have you on his arm tonight."

"It would be an honor," Lillian said. Maria watched her closely. If she felt anything for Coeur De Noir, she concealed it well. "Come, my room is downstairs."

As it turned out, Lillian had good taste. Her gown was a fern green satin with an elegant bustle skirt and Queen Anne neckline. Gold was embroidered into the bodice.

"I thought I'd wear white gloves with it," Lillian said, "But what do you think?"

"White gloves would be the finishing touch," Loveday decided. "In fact…Maria, do you have gloves?"

"I do; do you think I ought to wear them with my dress?"

"Of course!" Miss Heliotrope huffed. "You wouldn't dream of dancing in _bare arms_?" Maria giggled.

"Of course not, Miss Heliotrope." Although she hadn't considered dancing without gloves scandalous before. "May we see your dress?" She directed this at her tutor, whose eyes brightened. Miss Heliotrope always loved a good dress.

"Yes, yes, come this way." So they examined her dress, too: a peacock charmeuse with black brocade accents. Maria hadn't ever seen Miss Heliotrope wear this dress. All the ladies fawned over it with appropriate remarks until at last Miss Heliotrope said, "We really must start drawing water for the baths if we're all to wash before the ball." Maria was about to say that Loveday would be going back to the De Noir village where she could bathe there; then she realized that Loveday wouldn't be going anywhere. Moonacre Manor _was_ her home now. Which meant drawing bathwater for four ladies. They had better get to work.

Meanwhile at the De Noir village, Robin was loitering in the magazine, polishing an axe disinterestedly. His mind was elsewhere, but it was good to keep working. Torchlight flickered off the walls. It was a good place for thinking.

"Oi! Robin!" a voice echoed off the walls. "You in here?"

"I'm here," he replied.

"Right. Your father's lookin' for you. I'll tell him you're here."

"Do that." He returned to his polishing. Presently heavy footfalls on the cold stone floor broke the stillness, and Robin knew his father had come. It was unlike Coeur De Noir to seek him out, even since they had become friendly again. Usually Father summoned him. And so he looked up when his father greeted him.

"Robin."

"Father."

Coeur De Noir shifted on his feet, eyes skimming the walls laden with knives and bows and arrows. He seemed uneasy.

"Is there something you wanted to tell me?" Robin probed. Coeur De Noir met his son's gaze.

"Yes." His voice had an uncertain pitch to it. "It regards…well, correct me if I'm wrong, but, ah, I believe you and Maria are…" he fumbled for words.

"In love?" Robin supplied.

"Er—yes. That." Robin frowned. Could it be that his father disapproved of Maria? How could _anyone_ disapprove of Maria? But he let his father continue haltingly. "She's a fine girl." There. He knew Father wasn't daft.

"I agree. Father, do you have a point?" Robin tilted back his bowler hat with the axe. He wasn't trying to be impatient, but Father wasn't exactly being straight and to the point.

"I do. Forgive me. Son, it's been a while since you've had a mother." Robin's frown deepened. This was beginning to sound familiar. He thought back to his conversation with Maria yesterday. She'd been going on about…what was it? His father and Lillian. He'd thought it preposterous. But what could Father be talking about?

"Yes. You know I've never known a mother." Robin's mother died at birth; how could he have known her? And _what_ was his father getting at?

"I know. That was why I thought…that is, I've been thinking…I mean, well, what do you think of Lillian?" Coeur De Noir said this all in a rush. Robin's chuckle was low.

"Well, I'll be…" he shook his head in amusement. "Maria was right." Now it was Coeur De Noir's turn to frown. He didn't see what this had to do with Maria. What could his son find so funny? "There'll be no living with her after this. But of course I mean to," Robin added with a grin.

"What in tarnation are you going on about?" Coeur De Noir demanded.

"Sorry, Father. It's just that Maria predicted this. Yesterday, she proposed the idea of you and Lillian. I just laughed. And now…" He swept out a hand.

"Really, Robin. What do you think of her? I want to know whether you like Lillian before I think of courting her. This is your family, too." Robin liked the sound of that.

"I think she's grand, Father, I really do. A peach." He was rewarded to see his father beam with pride.

"I'm glad to hear it," Coeur De Noir puffed out his chest. He slapped Robin on the back affably and strode out, a little bounce in his step. Robin stared after him, still a bit in shock. Nevertheless, he had meant what he said. Lillian treated him like a young man, not a boy, as Miss Heliotrope tended to do. Lillian was lively and kind. If Father could be enchanted by a woman after knowing her for so short a time, if gruff Coeur De Noir, of all men, could fall in love at his age and with so a fine woman, Robin wished him all the luck in the world.

A/N: My dear reader,

Thank you ever so much for keeping up with this story! I'm excited for the next chapter. I'm sure you can tell this is beginning to wrap up (we're not quite there yet!) but where something ends, another must begin. Therefore, if you have any splendid ideas for a new Moonacre fanfiction, do let me know in the reviews! I can't promise anything, of course, but so many of your suggestions have sparked my stories. I'm sure you're familiar with the stimulation that accompanies marinating in story ideas. At any rate, I thank you once again for your attention and bid thee farewell.

Until next time, I remain your

Ponygirl7


	23. Ever So Distracting

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria paced through the house in her gown, checking every room to make sure that nothing was amiss. The taffeta swished softly as she walked. She had donned her gloves and was wearing silver shoes with low heels; hopefully her feet would not be too sore tomorrow. Loveday had done up her curls in a most becoming fashion. Maria hoped it would retain its shape. It was nearly evening, and the guests would be coming soon.

Maria bustled into the ballroom. Wrolf, who had been snoozing by the hearth, leapt up to join her. Maria inspected the tall Christmas tree, which Uncle Benjamin and Digweed had somehow wrestled into submission. She glanced at the gifts under the tree— _gifts_. With all the excitement of the past few days, she had forgotten all about gifts. She had made Miss Heliotrope's, Digweed's, and Marmaduke's months in advance, though she was still at a loss as to what to give Robin. And Uncle Benjamin and Loveday…well, she had several days yet. Christmas was Sunday. Surely she could figure something out by then.

So she continued her inspection, smoothing curtains, turning poinsettias, and petting Wrolf. Lillian had arranged for some local musicians (mostly elderly gentlemen) to come and play the dances. They were already warming up in the corner. Maria smiled and waved a gloved hand. Hopefully all would go smoothly. Marmaduke had been cooking up a storm when Maria visited him; so much so that he had shooed her out lest she be hit in the crossfire of cinnamon sticks he was using to make wassail. The feast was not a sit-down affair; people would graze along the tables and dance in turn when they pleased. The only official announcement would be that of Miss Heliotrope and Digweed's engagement. Maria still squealed internally at the thought.

A glance out the window told her that the sun was beginning to set. The De Noirs should be here any minute. She made her way to the front door, Wrolf on her heels. What a fine dog—er, lion, he was! Maria still considered him a dog, despite his appearance. Loyalty such as his could be found in no other animal.

The clicking of heels on the gray stone tile alerted Maria to Lillian's arrival.

"Are they...oh, not yet. But they should be here any minute."

"Yes. I'm so excited!" It took all of Maria's self-control to keep from bouncing up and down. She doubted Lillian would mind anyway, but she didn't want to pinch her toes. "I'm not sure if I told you, but I really like your dress. Did Coeur De Noir help pick it out?"

"Oh, no," Lillian blushed, smoothing out a ruffle in her gown. "He hasn't seen it yet."

"Ah, then it'll be a surprise! I'm sure he'll like it."

"Do you think so?" Lillian's bright eyes were hopeful, but Maria couldn't tell if she was just excited for the ball.

"Of course! I don't think he knows much about fashion, but he'd have to be blind to not be awed by you." Maria nodded with conviction, curls bobbing.

"You're too kind, really," Lillian protested, "But I'm sure Robin will be proud to escort you onto the dance floor."

"Thank you. I just hope he behaves himself. He's not accustomed to all the etiquette and elegance." Maria grinned. "And he _says_ he dances well, but that has yet to be proven." Lillian smiled, saying graciously,

"I'm sure if he dances half as well as his father, you'll be pleasantly surprised." Maria was about to respond when they heard a knock at the door. Maria was quickest, and rushed to open the door. As expected, it was Coeur De Noir and Robin leading the rest of their relatives.

"Come in, come in!" Maria dropped a quick curtsy and swung the door back. Coeur De Noir patted her arm as he entered.

"A pleasure to be here, Maria." She bowed her head, smiling. She could sense Coeur De Noir look past her and see Lillian. And suddenly, he had forgotten all about Maria. He strode forward, halted, and bowed deeply. Maria saw Lillian curtsy out of the corner of her eye. Oh, how she hoped they would fall in love! But Robin said to mind her own business. Speaking of Robin…

Maria looked up, and her breath caught.

"Evening, Princess," Robin said.

"Good evening, Robin. Would you come in?"

"I would." He stepped in to stand beside Maria, letting the other De Noirs enter. Maria smiled and greeted each guest in turn, as a host ought to do. As she was greeting them, Robin leaned down to whisper, lips grazing her ear, "I have something you'd like to hear."

"In a minute," she muttered between exclamations of "How _are_ you?" and " _So_ glad you could come!" This left Robin to amuse himself, and what better distraction than Maria's hair? He frowned, unable to perceive _how_ exactly it was staying up like that. Must be magic. He fingered one of her curls, twirling it around his index finger.

Meanwhile Maria, in a conscious effort to ignore him, became almost overly enthusiastic in her welcome, hoping not to let on how aware she was of his presence. When at last she had run out of guests to vigorously shake hands with or blind with a smile, she closed the door.

"You _cannot_ do that when I'm greeting people," she turned back to Robin, who assumed an innocent expression. "It's distracting."

"I'm distracting?"

"Very." She admitted. She tried to maintain a serious, reprimanding expression, but how was it possible when he looked ever so handsome in a suit? She sighed, rolling her eyes. His lips quirked up in a smirk, knowing he'd won.

"Now then," she said, putting her hands behind her back expectantly. "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"I didn't say I wanted to tell you," he countered, "I said you'd like to hear it."

"What's the difference?"

"You'll see. Well, there's no putting it off. You were right."

"Of course I was!" She stuck out her chin with pride. "Uh, what exactly was I right about?" Robin chuckled.

"Well," he began, "and this is all strictly confidential, you must keep in mind," he glanced down the empty hallway. Maria tiptoed closer to him, eyebrows creeping up her forehead in suspense.

"Yes?" she prompted. He sighed.

"Now you're being distracting."

"How am I being distracting? I am standing here, waiting for you to tell me some confidential news."

"Yes, but you're standing there, being _pretty_ ," he groaned, as though it were an exasperating vice. Maria's cheeks tinged with pink, not bothering to hide her smile.

"You're just prolonging the suspense."

"Right. Sorry. It's just that you're…" he trailed off, looking at her.

"For goodness' sake, Robin, out with it!" Maria ordered; though she didn't mind his obvious appreciation of her appearance.

"Sorry. Well, Father is kind of…he likes Lillian." Maria stared at him.

"Robin, I could've told you that."

"No, I mean…" Robin hooked a hand on his neck. "He asked me what I think of her. Like, as a…"

"As a potential mother?" Maria whispered, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. Robin nodded.

"Something of the sort. But Maria, don't go getting more notions; I have no idea what she thinks of him. And remember, this is—"

"Strictly confidential, I know," Maria waved it off. "I sha'n't tell a soul. But oh, Robin!" Now she did bounce up and down; nevermind her pinched feet. "I _told_ you I suspected something."

"Yes, you're very clever, I know. Now, shall we?" he offered her his arm. She took it.

"We shall."

And they went in to the ball.

A/N: Dear reader,

Oh, I'm so excited! Everything is falling into place just as it ought. Thank you so much for reading my story thus far! If you have any suggestions for future stories, plots, settings, couples, etc. let me know in the reviews!

Ever yours,

Ponygirl7


	24. Minding Manners

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Walking into the ballroom, Robin and Maria delved into the sights, sounds, and smells of Christmas. Cinnamon and nutmeg wafted tantalizingly over from the buffet tables. The musicians in the corner made up for their diminutive size by volume, bows bobbing up and down merrily. Already couples had flooded the dance floor, while others stood to the side to eat and laugh.

"What do you think?" Maria looked up at Robin.

"I think I'd like some food," he declared.

"About the ball, I meant," she specified, chuckling.

"It's good. Very nice. Very…bright."

"Please, stop, you're making me blush." She rolled her eyes at his vague compliments.

"Well, obviously it has rendered me speechless," Robin said. "I am unable to express my awe at the extravagance and splendor that mine eyes now behold."

"Better." Maria laughed. "Now we can go get food." They skirted the outside of the dance floor, sidling up to the buffet table.

Robin took up a plate and began filling it with delicacies of every kind. Maria cleared her throat in disapproval.

"What? I'm hungry." He grinned impishly.

"It's not that; a gentleman is supposed to provide a plate for his lady."

"Oh." Robin's brow wrinkled. "Well, why can't you…ah, nevermind. All right then." He picked up another plate, balancing it precariously on his arm. Maria caught him muttering under his breath something about confounded rules and how did anyone ever expect him to keep them straight? She pretended she hadn't heard him. So she watched in amusement as he used inventive albeit perilous ways to balance the two plates whilst filling them. He managed until he came to the drinks. Maria could see his mind working as he screwed up his eyebrows.

Then he seemed to come to a conclusion. He set one plate on top of his bowler hat and the other on his shoulder. Then he took two glasses and filled them with apple cider, slowly but carefully. He turned evenly, offering one glass to Maria.

"There you are, my lady," he said, "And here's the rest." He presented her with the plate from his hat then took up his own plate and glass. Maria let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"You know, Robin," Maria said, trying to conceal the giggles that threatened to spill over, " _Some_ young men just get one plate and glass, give it to their lady, and then get their own." He assumed a lofty air.

"Well, _some_ young men just don't have the skills to get it all at once."

"Whatever you say," Maria yielded, sipping her cider. Mm. Marmaduke was in top form. "Let's find a spot to sit, shall we?" So they found a small table and, at Maria's instruction, Robin pulled out a chair for her and helped her in. Sitting down himself, Robin popped an entire cream puff into his mouth, chewing jauntily. Then he seemed to realize that perhaps gentlemen didn't eat an entire cream puff in one piece…but he couldn't very well spit it out. So he chewed slowly while Maria watched in hilarity.

"I haven't forgotten what you said the other day," Maria said, "About your being able to dance well." He swallowed with effort, then considered her thoughtfully.

"Did I say that?"

"You did."

"I see." He took a long draught of cider. Maria wondered what this meant; had he been only jesting about his skill? Or was he truly a good dancer and had simply forgotten about mentioning it? Well, time would tell.

"Your father looks happy, doesn't he?" Maria asked. The man in question was speaking with Lillian, both sporting wide smiles. "Oh, he's asked her to dance!" She nearly squealed.

"Why should you be this excited? It's _my_ father, after all."

"Robin," her gaze followed Coeur De Noir and Lillian as they began to twirl, "just because I am not their flesh and blood does not mean I can't be happy for them! It makes me glad to see two people find each other in the other."

"What?"

"Oh, nevermind." She turned back around. "Robin, your napkin goes in your lap. I'm sure Miss Heliotrope has told you every time you come to eat here."

"Yes, but it's Miss Heliotrope speaking. Do you really think I'm listening?"

"Robin!"

"Easy," he held up his hands. "I meant no harm."

"I just hope she doesn't hear you talking like that," Maria skimmed the room for her tutor. "She already disapproves of you enough as it is."

"Why should her disapproval matter? She's not your mother."

"No, but she's close enough. If we're going to be any kind of…" she searched for the right word, but didn't find it, "…any kind of _anything_ , you'll need Miss Heliotrope to like you. Or at least not hate you."

"Any kind of anything?" He repeated, eyes twinkling.

"Oh, you _know_ what I mean!" She said, exasperated.

"Yes, I know," he said, sobering. "And I don't think Miss Heliotrope _hates_ me. I don't think she hates anyone, not right now. She's happy to be engaged to Digweed. Maybe now's a good time to…oh, Maria, do I need her permission?"

"And Uncle Benjamin's, ideally," Maria added, "which shouldn't be a problem, because you're his brother in law now."

"So I am." Robin frowned. "Do you think I ought to—to ask them now?" Before Maria could answer, he said, "No, I'd better. Better do it now while they're all happy. Right?" He was already standing up.

"Well, I suppose—but don't interrupt their conversations if they're talking, and don't talk to them if their mouth is full, and, oh, Robin!" She stood quickly, snatching up her napkin. "You've got cream on your—oh, I'll get it." She dabbed at his chin, hoping he would use proper etiquette. He smiled down at her.

"Don't worry," he promised. "I'll be a proper young man." He leaned down slightly, but Maria backed away.

"I can't very well kiss you in public before you've asked their permission," she explained, chewing her lip in regret. He sighed.

"All right. Off I go to win the hand of my fair maiden. And hopefully the rest of her, too."

"You think you're so funny."

"I do because I am."

"Whatever. And when you come back—if you succeed—then I shall be able to bestow upon you a kiss."

"Very good, fair maiden." He bent in an exaggerated bow. "Until I see thy shining face once more." He gave her one final smile, dark eyes determined, and went off to slay his dragons. Maria watched him, whispering after him,

"Oh, _do_ be polite! Please be polite." Then she sat back down to finish her cider and await with trepidation what may come.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you for reading the twenty-fourth installment of Peace on Earth! Thank you also for your patience. And your reviews (they truly make my day!). I hope you know that none of this would be possible without you! At any rate, I bid thee good day.

Yours,

Ponygirl7


	25. More Than I Love Myself

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Robin headed straight for Miss Heliotrope, knowing that facing her with the courage he had at present would be far better than to wait until his nerve calmed. It seemed Miss Heliotrope was sipping punch and talking with one of the ladies from the De Noir village who looked rather like a hen in a befeathered dress.

Swallowing hard, Robin drew near the ladies, waiting until the chicken woman finished speaking. From what he caught of the conversation, the old hen was surprised at Miss Heliotrope's intention to marry a mere servant who frittered his time away in the garden. Miss Heliotrope, meanwhile, was pinching her lips most severely. When the chicken woman paused for breath, Robin leapt in.

"You haven't ever met Digweed, have you, ma'am?" The woman confirmed that this was the case. Robin nodded. "Then you cannot know his character, which of course explains why I heard you speaking so unfavorably of him just now. If you were acquainted with him, you would find him to be a most amiable and pleasing man, one whose unwavering loyalty and dedication Moonacre Manor could not do without." He watched with secret glee as the chicken woman sputtered unintelligible remarks before waddling off. He himself was impressed with his own little speech. He wished Maria could've heard him. But Miss Heliotrope heard him, which was at the moment the next best thing. The woman in question now turned to him, chin drawn down in quiet observation.

"That was a kind thing to do," she said, eying him shrewdly.

"It was the right thing to do," Robin shrugged. "I spoke only the truth. And I wish you both happiness." There. That ought to get him points with Maria's tutor.

"Indeed. Thank you, Robin." She sipped her punch meditatively, then let out an untimely eructation. This gave Robin the boost of confidence he needed, for a woman who burps loudly cannot be too intimidating.

"And while we are on the subject of happiness," he began, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, "I would like to ask something of you."

"Of me?" Miss Heliotrope regarded him with surprise.

"Yes." Now that he had started, he had better finish. "I would like—that is, I am asking for—" How to phrase this? "I should like very much to court Maria. Do I—may I have your permission to do so?" There. It was said. He watched Miss Heliotrope intently.

But all she did was giggle quietly. Robin wondered if he'd ever heard her giggle.

Then she drew herself up most formidably, casting down a stern eye on Robin. Which was odd, come to think of it, for she was shorter than him, usually.

"Do not think," and now her voice was steely, "That Maria is a girl to be trifled with. She is far more intelligent than any simple _boy_ could hope to be. Therefore, if you were previously laboring under the delusion that she is a mere conquest or toy, allow me to disillusion you. Maria is one of the strongest people I have ever known. She can and will be a fierce opponent if you make her your enemy. And if you do make her your enemy, believe me when I say that it will not be only her that you will have to contend with." Robin blinked.

"However," Miss Heliotrope's tone softened, "Maria is also one of the most compassionate, tenderhearted people I have ever known. If… _if_ you respect her and treat her with love and devotion, she shall reward you tenfold." Miss Heliotrope sighed and took another sip of punch. "I have often fretted the nights away, worrying for Maria and her future suitors, for it was inevitable for a girl of her charm and nature to have such; but I think—and do _not_ disappoint me—but I think that perhaps you are up to the challenge. For it _is_ a challenge, to be in love...a love that lasts, at any rate. But I daresay you have never backed down from a challenge in your life. And the reward of this one is a treasure indeed. Do you promise," and her piercing gaze intensified, if such a thing was even possible, "to give Maria the respect she deserves, to care for her and her wellbeing even as you care for yours, and to love her as much as you love yourself?"

"More so, ma'am." He replied steadily. Miss Heliotrope was silent for a moment.

"Then you have my permission. And…my blessing." She finished the last of her punch. Robin had to force his brain to cooperate, so stunned was he by this uncharacteristic generosity towards him. He bowed gratefully, if a little hastily, and thanked her. Then, hardly believing his luck, he willed his feet to take him over to where Sir Benjamin and Loveday sat. The happy couple had acquired a small table in the corner, a plate piled high with iced Christmas cookies in the center.

"Hello Robin!" Loveday greeted him with enthusiasm. "Do draw up a chair and sit."

"I will, thanks." He did so. Loveday looked at him a moment before saying,

"Benjamin and I were just talking about putting a pond in the manor grounds. What do you think of the idea?" Robin considered.

"If you put in fish, we could go fishing."

"That what I've been telling Loveday," a grin lit Sir Benjamin's face, "and she just wants to put some of those little foreign fish in—"

"Koi, darling," Loveday corrected, "They're from Japan, I believe. And they aren't always little. But you wouldn't want to catch and eat them; they're too pretty. They're very colorful fish," she explained, "And would look ever so lovely in a little pond. Don't you think so, Robin?"

"I hardly know," he replied honestly, for he had never heard of koi.

"Never mind," Sir Benjamin waved it off. "Loveday's bent on it anyway, so it's bound to happen." Loveday blew a kiss to her husband. "But how are you, Robin? Enjoying yourself?"

"Er, yes." Robin cleared his throat, glancing at his sister. She seemed to understand.

"I'll be back in a minute; saying hello to some friends." She rose and exited. Robin had to hand it to Loveday for being tactful.

"Something I can help you with?" Sir Benjamin asked.

"As a matter of fact—I'd like your permission to court Maria."

"I see. Well, I don't see why not. If she's agreeable, of course." Sir Benjamin cocked his head. "Maria's a smart young lady. She can speak for herself. As to my permission, you have it most readily." Robin paused, bracing himself for a lengthy spiel. But there was none. He smiled.

"Thank you, sir." He extended a hand, and the two men shook.

"You're welcome, son." And Robin stood, bowed, and began to walk back to the table where Maria was waiting. He felt triumphant, like a hero returning from war. He could hardly keep from running. He had to content himself with long, quick strides, curls bouncing across his forehead. Never had Robin known such a jubilant freedom, a freedom filled with anticipation.

He could court Maria.

This was turning out to be quite the evening.

A/N: Dear reader,

Sorry I had to stop here! I do try to keep my chapters approximately the same length, so please forgive me. I think the difference between Miss Heliotrope's reception of Robin's inquiry and Sir Benjamin's rather droll, don't you? I thank you once again for your time in reading this story, your gracious reviews, and your patience.

Your faithful

Ponygirl7


	26. A Picture of Partnership

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria had of course been watching Robin throughout his endeavors, and was flushed with pleasure to see him return. From his broad smile, she could see the result of his mission. She rose as he neared her, offering her gloved hand. He took it in his bare fingers, looking as though he'd just acquired a vast fortune. Which, I suppose, in a manner of speaking, he had.

"Princess."

"Robin?"

"Would you like to dance?"

"As you have my hand, both literally and figuratively, why would I deny you that happiness?" Robin opened his mouth, furrowed his brow, and then frowned.

"Was that a yes or no?"

"I should very much like to dance with you, as I think you know full well." Her eyes were already dancing.

"Good. I mean—shall we?" For a moment he looked visibly distressed.

"Robin, there's no need to bother with formalities on my account. I can see they render you uncomfortable."

"Well, I'd like to try," Robin said, leading her out to the dance floor. "If anyone can civilize me, it's you."

"You're civilized as it is. Somewhat." She added hastily.

"I'm holding you to that, then," Robin chuckled. They began to dance. It was a lively polka, one that kept the dancers' feet busy, but Robin and Maria managed to keep up a conversation between breaths.

"You do dance—rather well," Maria admitted grudgingly. It was true; he moved with polished precision, unlike most of the stiff, jerky steps other young men generally butchered.

"Don't sound surprised—" he grinned.

"I wasn't—well, a little—but where did you—"

"Loveday," he explained.

"Ah," Maria twirled under his arm. That explained it all. Only Loveday would have the patience, inclination, and talent to teach Robin to dance so gracefully. She twirled again, her dress flaring out slightly. "You'll come—to the wedding—right?"

"Of Miss Heliotrope's and—" he spun her under his arm. "Digweed?"

"Yes," her curls bobbed up and down atop her head, "It'll be after—church on Sunday—on Christmas—and—I'm to be the maid of honor."

"Isn't there a—favorite fellow? I could—be him."

"Favorite fellow?" Her laugh was merry, like the tinkling of bells. "You mean best man?"

"That's the one," he affirmed, trotting side to side lightly while he spun her. There were a lot of spins and twirls in polkas.

"I suppose you—could ask Digweed. I don't believe—they've discussed it yet."

"Perhaps I will." He glanced around, looking for Digweed. The servant and his fiancée were talking with each other quickly. "I'd get to walk you—down the aisle, right?"

"That's correct," Maria blushed to think of it.

"It'll be good practice."

"Robin!" She laughed, twirling into his arm. "We've only barely begun—to court!"

"I know," they joined hands and circled, "but do you mean—you wouldn't—"

"Don't interpret my words—as discouraging—far from it."

"Oh?" He quirked up an eyebrow as they stepped together.

"I only meant—well, think of Miss Heliotrope." Maria nodded in her tutor's direction. "She'd have a heart attack if—she heard us talking—about…marriage."

"You're right," he chuckled. "She's got enough on her plate. In the meantime," he steered her skillfully across the smooth floor, "you'll have to educate—me in the ways of courtship. What's proper—and all that."

"I think," she concentrated on her steps, though her shoes were beginning to pinch, "that we've surpassed propriety. Spending a night—alone in a cave? Highly improper."

"Good," he spun her, "Anything I do—from now on—will be an improvement."

"That's one way of—looking at it," she allowed, smiling in amusement. The dance was beginning to wind down, and before long the musicians were drawing out the final chords. Maria curtsied while Robin bowed. Then they all stood and smiled and clapped appreciatively for the musicians. Robin's hunter's eyes caught Miss Heliotrope bending down to talk to a violinist, who nodded.

"I wonder what that's all about," he muttered.

"What?" Maria peered in the direction he was looking. "Oh. I think I know. Come, let's sit." They adjourned to their table, where Maria sipped the last of her cider while Robin gulped his thirstily.

"Were you tired?" Robin asked, beginning to wipe his mouth on his sleeve then deferring that honor to a cloth napkin.

"Not in the least; though my feet are a bit sore. But I believe this next dance is Miss Heliotrope and Digweed's."

"What?"

"They're going to announce—oh, here, now you'll see." A hush had spread over the gathering as Digweed clinked a spoon against a glass.

"Friends and family," Miss Heliotrope began warmly, squaring her shoulders, "Digweed and I have an announcement to make." Robin sighed. He'd heard this before. He found his eyes wandering over to Maria, but when they focused on her face, he chuckled.

"You have a moustache," he murmured across the table to Maria. She averted her gaze from her tutor to Robin, frowning.

"I what? Oh." She snatched up her napkin, wiping the cider stains from her lips.

"Is this going to be a long speech?" he asked in a low voice.

"Perhaps…I don't know."

"We've heard it before. They're engaged."

"Yes?"

"Would you like to slip out?"

"I—" she glanced between Robin and Miss Heliotrope. She wouldn't mind going off with Robin. But she felt a sense of duty towards Miss Heliotrope. "If we wait at the door until she's finished."

"Fair enough." They stood and easily made their way along the wall to the door. On their way, they passed a table of treats. Robin snagged two cream puffs, offering one to Maria. She took it and they went on, reaching the door. Meanwhile Digweed had taken over, and he was ending with something along the lines of

"—the most beautiful, knowledgeable woman I have ever met—"

"Huh," Robin grunted, nudging Maria. "And I thought he knew you." Maria rolled her eyes, but her mouth was full of cream puff. "Are they _almost_ finished?" He sighed, exasperated.

"Patience is a virtue," Maria reminded him gently, slipping her hand through his. "Surely they can't have much more to say. Look, the musicians are getting ready."

"What does that mean?"

"They're going to play. Miss Heliotrope and Digweed are going to dance this one by themselves."

"Don't tell me you want to watch that too?" Upon seeing her disapproving look, he amended, "Because I would gladly wait."

"Miss Heliotrope has been a constant in my life long before I knew Moonacre," Maria said quietly. "She is a permanent part of me."

"I'm jealous." He played with her fingers.

"What I'm saying," a little smile flitted across her face, "is that I am excited for this new development in her life. After all the effort she has put into improving me and my mind, it's the least I can do to be there for her."

"I know," he said soberly, "I'm sorry if I was rude."

"You're forgiven," Maria squeezed his hand, looking up at him with open affection. He smiled down at her with such adoration. His dark eyes were so deep and liquid that she could so easily drown in them, and enjoy every minute. But when she heard the music beginning, she wrenched her gaze away to watch her tutor.

Miss Heliotrope and Digweed were dancing. It was intriguing to watch; Miss Heliotrope, being the learned lady she was, danced quite well. Digweed, on the other hand, was less experienced and stumbled occasionally. But Maria could see he was making a great effort, striving to do well for his fiancée, and Miss Heliotrope was ever so subtly correcting his movements while making him appear graceful. It was such a sweet picture of love and partnership.

Maria leaned into Robin, savoring his woodsy smell, which at the moment was mingled with a tinge of cinnamon. He inclined his head to plant a kiss on her temple. And they watched the dancing couple, basking in the happy contentment of companionship.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you for reading this chapter! Sorry I've been a little slow to update; this is a busy time of year. A hearty thanks to those of you who have commented, either on this, or my other stories. You really do make my day! It's amazing what words can do, truly. However, they can also bore people, so I shall end here!

Yours,

Ponygirl7


	27. Supposes

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"All right," Maria murmured up to Robin, "Let's go."

Miss Heliotrope and Digweed were curtsying and bowing. Everyone else was clapping emphatically. Meanwhile, Robin and Maria slipped out the door and into the cool, dark hallway.

"I can only take people for so long," Robin explained, inhaling the solitude with gratefulness.

"Though you put it crudely, I understand." Maria chuckled. "Human interaction can be tiresome. Now then," she slid her arm through his, "What do you propose we do?"

"I propose…" he considered with a frown, "we take a stroll. Strolls are typical courting activities, right?" Maria's eyes danced with amusement.

"It's absolutely freezing outside," she pointed out.

"Well, we can stroll in the house."

"And that's not the least bit strange?"

"No, it's not," he said confidently.

"It sounds like something from a Brontë novel."

"A what?"

"A Brontë novel. Wandering the house at night, freshly fallen snow outside—or, relatively fresh—shut out from the merry party in this big cold mansion—but there aren't any ghosts, of course."

"I still don't know what you're talking about," he shrugged, "but how do you know there aren't ghosts?"

"Don't be silly," she said reprovingly, "Ghosts don't exist."

"How do you know?"

"A person's spirit goes straight to heaven or hell when they die, they don't stay around—"

"There you go, being all sensible and smart. But supposing there _were_ ghosts in this manor—"

"But there couldn't _possibly_ —"

"Just suppose," he said, enjoying this quite thoroughly, "just suppose there were ghosts here. Where would they go?"

"I'm not a ghost; how should I know?"

"This is where a beautiful thing called 'imagination' comes in handy," Robin said.

"Well…" Maria held his gaze for a moment, then gave in. "Well, I suppose they would be someone desolate and solitary. Secret passageways are always good; in a mansion like this, there are sure to be some. Or a cellar. Or an attic, that'd be good—"

"And here you said you didn't know."

"I happen to read a great deal, Robin," she lifted her chin haughtily. "Not that I could expect you to understand anything so sophisticated as literature—"

"I can read," he said defensively. Then he shrugged. "Just because I don't _choose_ to every moment of the day—"

"No, indeed, that intellectual stimulant is replaced by shooting down wild animals."

"To feed my family."

"And you don't mean to tell me that you derive no pleasure whatsoever from hunting—"

"I never said it wasn't fun, but it beats looking at words on a page any day."

"That is where you and I differ."

"That's not the only thing we differ in," he said. When she gave him a questioning look, he went on, "Well, you see, I'm a boy, and you're a girl—"

"Oh, you noticed?" Maria chuckled. "Astute observation, really. I applaud you, O keenest of mind and wit."

"All right, all right," Robin rolled his eyes, muttering, "And they call _me_ sarcastic."

"You forget that I have ears, and I am standing very close to you, so if you expected me _not_ to hear that—"

"It's very hard to forget you're standing close to me, thank you very much."

"Oh?" she peered up into his face, eyebrows arched.

"Well, with you shouting in my ear and all—"

"Oh, you—" she pushed him gently, rolling her eyes. But he brought her back in for a kiss, sweet as cream.

"Now then," he said brightly, stepping back, "shall we go explore the cellar? Or was it the attic?"

"I really don't know if we have either. But if we keep climbing stairs, we're sure to find something."

"You haven't explored this house yet?"

"I've been busy nearly dying, both with the curse and then with the snowstorm."

"Fair enough. Shall we climb stairs?"

"Yes; but first," she bent down to the ground, surfacing again with two shoes, "My feet were killing me. You don't mind?"

"Why didn't you say so?" He scooped her up, gown and all. "I don't see why they make girls' shoes uncomfortable."

"I don't see why they make girls' _everything_ uncomfortable," Maria chuckled. "We should make men wear corsets and bustles for a day, and see how they like it. You can put me down, though, Robin. I can walk barefoot."

"And freeze your feet on this tile? I'd as soon throw myself into the snow as let you suffer like that." And he began to walk, smooth and steady.

"Robin, really."

"Maria, really."

"You're going to get tired," she warned. "I'm not light."

"You say that like it's a problem."

"You'll be worn out."

"But you see, I've had so much practice lugging animal carcasses around—"

"Are you comparing me to a dead deer?"

"I'm merely pointing out the benefits of hunting, nothing more." They were climbing stairs now.

"You don't know how many stairs there are." Robin shrugged. Maria tried again. "You'll collapse pretty soon."

"Have some faith in me, eh, Princess?" Maria sighed, sinking back into his shoulder. Well, she wouldn't complain. It was his energy being exerted, his arms aching, not hers. She had done what she could to spare him sore muscles, but being the cocky, pompous young man that he was, he had insisted. Of course, the cocky, pompous young man was also being rather chivalrous and sweet at the same time…

"How do you expect to find these ghosts?" she prodded.

"Maybe they'll be having a Christmas party."

"Oh, of course, why didn't I think of that? Actually," she played with his neck feathers, "there _is_ a novella about ghosts having a—a sort of Christmas party, I suppose. It's called _A Christmas Carol_."

"There, you see? I'm not being entirely daft."

"Not entirely, no," she agreed, "though of course it was fiction."

"Whatever. But do you think that if we were still in that ballroom, we would be able to talk so freely?"

"I suppose not."

"That tells me that even if we don't find any ghosts, this trip will have been a success."

"I suppose so."

"You suppose a lot of things."

"I do. Suppose," she smiled mischievously, "suppose I tickled your neck. Your hands are otherwise engaged. What do you suppose would happen?"

"I'm oblivious to tickling," he said quickly. "Quite immune."

"Oh, indeed?" Her fingers flickered up under his jawline, watching his features. He was making a brave attempt at a poker face, but a man can only last so long, and Maria knew this. Her fingers skirted up to his ear, then dropped down to his throat, teasing. His arms tightened around her, anxious to defend himself but unwilling to drop her. Pretty soon, the ghost of a smile flitted across his face.

"Aha!" she declared, triumphant.

"Well, that's unfair."

"What's unfair?"

"You—well, you—look, here we are," he changed the subject swiftly. Maria chuckled at his sputtering, but turned to see where they had stopped. They were on a cold, dark landing very high up. A slightly damp smell permeated the air. Surely, this must be the tallest part of the manor.

"Now will you put me down?" she asked.

"As you wish," he set her on her feet. She turned to look at the door they faced. It looked just like any other door, but surely this would be the attic. Robin moved forward and grasped the door handle, turning it. A faint metallic click was heard.

"Shall we explore?" He grinned, dark eyes glinting.

"I suppose so." Her lips curved up at the ends. She was ready for anything, so long as it was with Robin.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you so much for reading this 27th installment of Peace on Earth! I'm sorry I haven't been able to write as often as I'd like, but never mind that. I'd like to take this moment to thank you.

Your patience and support is greatly appreciated. If you're a writer, you empathize with me in the heartfelt joy one receives when reading kind reviews. If you're a reader, you have probably read thanks like these thousands of times; but its sheer number doesn't devalue or make it any less true. You are a fundamental part of any literature. If it weren't for you, dear readers, for what would books exist?

Thank you, again.

Your

Ponygirl7


	28. Ghosts in the Dust

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Robin pushed the heavy door open. It gave a great weary groan, accompanied by the unwilling squeaks of hinges long rusted. A wave of cold and dampness swept over them. Robin and Maria stood for a moment, peering in. Then Maria, taking initiative, stepped blindly into the dark room.

The floor was solid but velvet soft under her bare feet. It occurred to her that she was likely stepping upon layers of dust. Grimacing slightly, she felt around. The room must be large; she could feel no immediate walls. The situation would be much improved if they had a light. Turning back to Robin, she asked,

"Have you a—"

Robin's features were illuminated by a flickering flame.

"I suppose you have, then," she chuckled. Leave it to Robin to keep matches with him. "Let's see if we can find a candle." They walked further in, hugging a wall.

"Oh!" Maria bumped into a large wooden object which, upon further inspection, proved to be a chest of drawers. "There's got to be a candle somewhere,  
Maria said, rifling through the drawers, "I don't want the match burning down to your fingertips…aha!" She arose victorious, brandishing a fistful of browned tallow candles.

"You want me to light them all?" Robin's brow creased dubiously.

"Then we can set them around the room, and have a good look at the place," Maria explained.

"Oh."

"Come; we'll put candles along the wall until we reach the door again."

"I didn't know you had worked up a strategy."

"I know how to manage things, you included."

"Is that so?" He chuckled.

"You need someone who can manage you."

"I think I can manage myself just fine."

"All boys _think_ that. It's only when they get a girl who actually keeps them in order that they find out what they lacked before."

"Well, that may be," Robin said, looking for all his neck feathers like a ruffled hen, "But you couldn't do without us men either."

"Do tell."

"How would you reach something high up? Or bring home animals for food? Or…or unscrew cans?" He lowered his chin, expectancy in his eyes, as though this final point was sure to win his case.

"I suppose you do have your benefits," Maria allowed, "but if we continue to argue, your match will soon be extinguished. We can argue in a moment."

"All right," he complied. They did as Maria had suggested, keeping to the outside wall and lighting a candle when they came upon a place to set it. Finally they came full circle, returning to the doorway. Then they turned to see the fruits of their work.

The attic room was quite visible now, bathed in warm, flickering yellow light. The ceiling was high and domed, coming to a point in the middle. Maria deduced that they must be in one of the towers. The room itself was spacious and circular, scattered with trunks and chests and hatboxes and a large wardrobe. Everything was carpeted in dust so that it appeared to be slightly fuzzy, and gave the illusion that the viewer's vision was impaired.

"Well Princess, I don't see any ghosts," Robin said, blowing out his match, which had dwindled to a charred stump.

"Ah, but I do." Maria's eyes glowed.

"Uh…" Robin followed her gaze, seeing nothing paranormal. "Princess?"

"Not spirits of the dead, Robin," she turned to him now, "I _told_ you, those aren't real. They don't linger on the earth. But ghosts of the past, on the other hand…" she inhaled, closing her eyes. Robin watched her curiously. Her chestnut eyes flew open, sparkling. "Isn't this amazing? We're probably the first people to come in this room since who knows when? Maybe a hundred years! This manor is so very old—and everything in this room has sat motionless for so long, untouched…you can't tell me this isn't the least bit fascinating?"

"I…" he looked around. It was interesting, to be sure, though he wasn't as rapturous as Maria. But she didn't seem to be waiting for an answer, either. She had gone ahead and was already opening a faded pink hatbox.

"Oh." She frowned in disappointment. Robin looked over her shoulder. Instead of a grand hat, the box was stuffed with old scraps of fabric. "This, this right here," she said, slamming the lid on the box, "is what you would call 'anticlimactic'."

"They can't all be full of rubbish," Robin said confidently. He opened the top drawer of a nearby chest, to find an odd assortment of buttons, tobacco pipes, and tarnished cuff links. He quickly closed the drawer without saying anything. The next drawer contained samples of lace. The next held dessert recipes, which, while they could be useful, did not hold much appeal for the adventurous mind.

"Robin, come, look!" Maria said excitedly, from the other side of the room. She had flung open the large mahogany wardrobe. One side was entirely stacked with hats, while the other boasted furs and coats from who knows how long ago. Maria plucked a broad-brimmed olive green hat from the top. There was a sprig of flowers and what seemed to be a bird sitting atop the hat. She sat it carefully atop her curls.

"What do you think?" She twirled around prettily for effect.

"I think it's rather odd for a bird to be on top of a hat, don't you?"

"It was the _style_ back then. And," her eyes danced merrily, "If you haven't noticed, you are a bird under a hat."

"I what?"

"Your name is Robin, you wear feathers, and a bowler hat sits atop your head."

"I—oh." He grinned sheepishly. "I see. I think you look better without the hat, though."

"Thank you, I suppose." She discarded the hat and chose another, this one made of straw and decorated with ribbon. "How about this one?"

"Honestly? It looks like an Easter egg basket." Maria considered his words.

"You're not wrong," she admitted, "though you put it indelicately. Here, let's see you try this one on." She selected a tricorn hat that reminded her of a soldier.

"And take off my bowler hat? You must be joking."

"No, I'm not joking; I'm Maria," she said patiently, "And I'd like to see what you'd look like with this on. Actually…" she chose another from the stack, this one a large sweeping hat that was reminiscent of the Three Musketeers. "This one's much more dashing, don't you think?"

"Well—yes," Robin couldn't deny the dramatic flair of the hat. "But—"

"Please?" She looked hopefully up into his eyes. He sighed reluctantly.

"Oh, all right." He handed her his bowler and she set the musketeer hat on his unruly curls, then stepped back to see.

"Why Robin, you're positively fashionable! A debonair gentleman."

"Yes, yes, I know. But does the _hat_ do anything for my appearance?" He grinned.

"Oh, very funny," she chuckled, stepping closer.

"It's not very practical, though," he added as she straightened his neck feathers, "because I couldn't go hunting in it."

"Is that all you ever think about? Hunting?" Her tone was amused.

"Well, hunting, and you." She looked up, saying drily,

"I'm glad to know that I'm as important to you as the wild beasts of the forest. It means a lot to me." Robin rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you know I love you."

"Yes, I know." Her eyelashes fluttered, smile beaming. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him in the flickering candlelight, his curls grazing her forehead. She stepped away with a grin. "And I love you too."

"Yes," Robin chuckled, "I sort of got that impression."

A/N: Beloved reader,

Sorry I have to end this chapter here, but for the sake of chapter length continuity, we must keep this trimmed neatly. Thank you for reading my stories and reviewing with such encouragement. You make my day!

Faithfully,

Ponygirl7


	29. The Gift (& Difficulties) of Giving

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria and Robin explored further. They did not find any love letters squirreled away in a desk, nor did they come across an ancient diary that promised the secrets of the dead. They unearthed old articles of clothing and tried them on, sending clouds of dust mushrooming up into the air. Robin exhumed a pile of schoolbooks. After realizing what they were, he dropped them like a hot potato and left them to further disintegrate.

Maria chuckled. She had stumbled upon a trove of tarnished brooches and was sifting through them meticulously. Many, if polished, could be worn proudly to a Sunday church service. Sunday. Church…

"Robin!"

Maria's exclamation was so sudden that Robin bumped his head on the lid of a chest.

"What? Something wrong?"

"No—sorry. I just—I just realized that the wedding is Sunday, after church, and that's Christmas."

"But you already knew that," he pointed out.

" _Yes_ , but Robin, _gifts_! I haven't even thought about what I'll give everyone for Christmas! I've been too busy, well, almost dying, for one. But oh, I really should have thought more about this. Now what am I to do?"

"Well," he considered, "you don't have to get me anything; you're all I wanted anyway. But I think—"

"Robin," she cut him off, eyes bright, "That was…that was _sweet_."

"Hm? Yes, I suppose it was." He grinned slightly. "But as I was saying, I imagine we could go to town tomorrow and go shopping for whatever you want."

"Yes," she considered, "but it wouldn't be personal. I want to make something, or do something, or…oh, I don't have much time!"

"Hold on, now," he straightened up from the chest he'd been examining and crossed over to her, plopping down on the dusty floor. "Let's make a list. Who do you want to give presents to?"

"Well, Miss Heliotrope and Digweed. Uncle Benjamin and Loveday. Your father. Marmaduke. I…I suppose that's all."

"All right. My father especially likes food; we could bake something for him."

"I don't suppose the fact that you'd probably get to eat it too has any bearing on the matter?"

"It did cross my mind," his eyes glinted, "but my father does like food. What's a Christmas food we could make?"

"Christmas cookies are always good," Maria said, thinking out loud. "Or cranberry bread. I can make that pretty well."

"Cranberry bread? It sounds healthy." Robin uttered this last word as though it were foul.

"Not really; once you add the sugar and the sweet orange glaze and—"

"Orange glaze? I love oranges. We should definitely—that is, my _father_ loves oranges. I know he'd appreciate that. Yes."

"Always thinking of others, aren't you, Robin?" Maria laughed.

"That's me." He closed his eyes, putting his hand on his heart. "The soul of selflessness."

"Yes, something like that. All right, we can easily do that tomorrow. Perhaps we ought to make Marmaduke one too; he always takes such care in feeding us, we have never had a chance to make him something."

"And maybe we ought to make a third one, just in case." Maria raised an eyebrow.

"Just in case you get hungry?"

"That was the general idea, yes."

"We'll see. Now what about Loveday and Uncle and Miss Heliotrope and Digweed?" Her gaze scanned the brooches in front of her. "I wonder if Miss Heliotrope would like one of these, if I could clean it up." She studied them. A glittering snowflake. Were those diamonds? A dragonfly with sapphire wings. The cameo of a woman. A turquoise fleur-de-lis. A deep amethyst sprig of star-like flowers. A ruby—

"Wait," Maria said almost unconsciously. She picked up the purple flowers. "Aren't heliotropes a type of purple flower?"

"You're asking me?"

"I think they are," she said slowly. "I'd have to clean it up, but yes, I think this would do nicely." She looked down at her dress. "Why cannot dresses have pockets? I don't suppose you could keep this for me?"

"I suppose I could." He pocketed the brooch. "That leaves Digweed, Loveday, and Sir Benjamin."

"Yes." She twiddled her thumbs. "Digweed. What will he—I know! What about a honeymoon?"

"Excuse me?"

"I could pay for Miss Heliotrope and Digweed's honeymoon! Wherever they wanted to go. A romantic getaway. What do you think?"

"That would cost a lot," Robin said doubtfully.

"I'm not entirely without means," Maria smiled a little. "But then what shall we do with Loveday and Uncle? I suppose I may call them 'Aunt and Uncle', though it feels odd on the tongue."

"Well," Robin glanced around, as though to check for eavesdroppers. "I don't know if I'm at liberty to tell you this, but—and mind, it's not certain or anything, and it would be months until—"

"You have my attention. Please get to the point."

"Well, I—I think they might be having a baby. Loveday and Sir Benjamin."

Maria sat entirely still for about ten seconds. Then she practically exploded with joy.

"Robin, do you know how wonderful that is? But will it be a boy or girl? When will it be born? Their very first! My cousin! And yours of course, too. They must be ecstatic! How did you know? Who told you? When will they announce it? How—" she continued for a moment longer, but her voice was muffled by Robin's hand.

"Slow down. I just heard Loveday insinuate that there might be one on the way. It'd be born in, like, nine months. Eight months? I'm not sure. Now if I let you speak, will you keep squealing or will you settle down?" Her eyes rolled. He removed his hand.

"I was just very excited, that's all." She pouted momentarily, but could hardly keep from bouncing back. "And I have good reason to be excited! I've never really had much to do with babies, but I hope it'll like me."

"Of course it'll like you," Robin scoffed. "How could it not? Anyway, when they got married, I'd started making a cradle for them. I knew eventually they'd have kids, it was only a matter of when. So that's my gift to them; maybe you could make a baby blanket?"

"I _am_ in the midst of making a blanket, and it could pass for a baby blanket. But…I don't think it'd be right to give them that for Christmas if they haven't really announced it yet."

"You leave that to me," Robin said mysteriously. Maria arched an eyebrow but decided against prodding.

"We should probably get back to the party. They'll be wondering where we went." He sighed, standing with her.

"I guess so. This has been a nice interlude." Then, upon seeing her shocked face: "What?"

"I just didn't expect you to know that word: 'interlude'."

"I'm not entirely uncultured."

"No. Not entirely." She kissed him. "We'd better blow these candles out." And so they did, finally returning to the door with reluctance in their step. "Goodbye, ghosts," Maria said wistfully, "we'll see you again." And despite its sluggish groans of protest, Robin swung the heavy door closed.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you for sticking with me thus far! This is a hectic time of the year, and I appreciate your patience. Many thanks to all of you who review my stories.

I remain your

Ponygirl7


	30. Freshening Up & Refreshments

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria began to pad quickly down the stairs, but she hadn't gotten very far before she felt arms close round about her.

"And just where do you think you're going in those bare feet, young lady?" Robin scolded in her ear.

"I don't want to be the cause of your strained muscles," Maria wriggled in vain.

"You don't seem to have much faith in me," he grunted, sweeping her up bridal-style.

"Well, if you wake up tomorrow unable to move your arms, mark it down to your unsolicited show of bravado. I wash my hands of the whole affair."

"Very well," he chuckled, lightly stepping down the stairs. "And what do we have planned for tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, tomorrow," Maria swished the word around in her mouth. "Tomorrow—tomorrow we bake. The cranberry bread." She nodded resolutely. "Then I'll work on the baby blanket."

"You want me to help you bake?"

"That's why I said 'we'."

"I'm not much good at cooking."

"I'll order you around. You'll be marvelous."

"How can a fellow refuse such an offer?"

"It wasn't an offer; it was a demand."

"Well in that case, I'm left with no choice."

"I'm glad you see it my way." She kissed his cheek.

"Will I get some of the batter?"

"Perhaps if you're a very good little boy."

"I will be."

"No you won't."

"You know me too well," he grinned. "Is the ball still going on?"

"I imagine so. I hope so; otherwise you'll have to walk home alone. And it wouldn't look very good: you and I emerging from who knows where, dusty and happy."

"What are you implying?"

"It's not what I'm implying, it's what others would insinuate."

"Well, I have a spotless reputation, I don't know about you."

"Do you indeed?"

"No," he admitted, "but anyway, I think I still hear music. No one will have noticed we've gone."

"I hope so," Maria sighed, leaning back into his shoulder, his feathers tickling her chin. They had only just begun to court. Rumors would not do. But music was beginning to float up the stairwell; Robin's hunter senses had proven themselves once more.

Presently they reached the ground floor. Robin set Maria down and she retrieved her shoes, stepping into them with pinched lips and toes.

"I do wish I could wear boots like you," she grumbled.

"I'd offer mine, but I don't think my feet would fit in your shoes." Robin tried to sound regretful.

"You wouldn't last a day in these shoes. No man would." Maria tossed her head. A slight cloud of dust issued up from her movement. "Heavens, I'd better freshen up." She glanced up at him. "You too; there's a restroom around the corner here." Robin followed her into a small bathroom. Maria found a cloth, rinsed it in the basin, and scrubbed her face. Then she handed it to Robin for him to do the same. Her blue taffeta gown was not besmirched, thank goodness. Gowns…Lillian.

"Robin, I have to get something for Lillian!" Maria exclaimed. "I completely forgot. How could I have forgotten her?"

"We could give her my father."

"Robin!" she scolded him, rolling her eyes. "I'm being serious."

"So am I."

"We don't have much grounds for suggesting such things. We only know that he likes her, and she _might_ like him. Nothing beyond that. But I do need to think of something for her, I can't have her feeling left out—"

"Calm down. We'll make her fruitcake too."

"Cranberry bread."

"Is there a difference?"

"Oh Robin, don't ever ask Marmaduke that. Yes, there is a difference." She ran a hand over her hair. Mostly intact. Good. "Are you cleaned up?" She turned to inspect him. His skin glowed fresh and clean, and his dark curls bounced with renewed vigor. "You do clean up rather nicely," she admitted, nodded in approval.

"I could say the same for you."

"Thank you."

"I could, but I didn't."

"Oh, you—" she slapped him gently, but he caught her hand and kissed it with all the charm of a young gentleman. "We'd better get back to the dance," Maria said, thought at the moment she would rather do anything but that. Robin exhaled.

"You're right." He dropped her hand and gave as elaborate a bow as one could perform in so small a bathroom. "Shall we?"

"We shall indeed." They quit the bathroom and made their way back to the dance. Robin opened the door for her, and they were dazzled once more by the light and splendor of the ballroom. Thankfully the musicians were playing and couples were dancing, so Robin and Maria slipped in without drawing attention.

"Hungry?" Robin asked.

"Famished," Maria replied. She was, in fact, not very hungry at all, but the fact that Robin asked proved that _he_ was hungry, and she wasn't going to make him feel awkward by eating alone. "I'll find us two seats if you'll find us some food."

"Done." Robin nodded in agreement as though it were a trade deal. They split up, and Maria skirted around the dance floor to the tables. She found Lillian seated alone at a table of four. Frowning, Maria drew near a chair.

"Are you saving these seats?" Maria asked, though her underlying question was, had everyone left sweet Lillian all alone with no one to talk to, and if so, why in the world had they done so?

"No; not all." So Maria sat down, wholly disappointed. But Lillian went on: "Coeur De Noir is returning shortly with refreshments, I hope." Maria's eyes lit up.

"I see." She smiled. "Robin is off on the same mission." She allowed a moment of appropriate silence before saying, "And are you enjoying the evening?"

"Very much so, yes," Lillian's eyes were dreamy, and Maria could easily guess the reason. But then it seemed difficult for Lillian to come back down to reality by herself, so Maria assisted.

"Have you done much dancing? You and Coeur De Noir were very good when you practiced together."

"Thank you; yes, we've done a good deal of dancing. Who would have thought that two old antiques like ourselves would have such fun?"

"You're hardly antiques," Maria laughed merrily. "If I were to wager, I'd bet that you were more graceful than half the young couples on the floor. Weren't you?" she directed this at Coeur De Noir, who had sat down.

"I don't know about me, but Lillian was downright stunning." He emphasized the last word with a little wag of the head. Lillian flushed very prettily, cheeks rosy next to her fern green dress. Maria indulged in a secret smile.

"I believe it."

"Say, where's my son gone off to? He hasn't left you, has he?" Coeur De Noir's heavy brows lowered.

"Oh, no, sir. He's getting refreshments. And as it turns out, he is a fine dancer." Coeur De Noir leaned forward in disbelief.

"My Robin? Balderdash."

"No, 'tis true. Loveday taught him."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Believe what, Father?" Robin asked, handing Maria a plate and glass before sinking into a chair.

"Maria here claims you can dance."

"Maria does not lie, Father."

"Indeed?"

"We should be happy to show you right now," Robin stood and offered Maria his hand. She glanced at him, then took it. "Watch and learn, Father." Robin winked, then escorted Maria out onto the floor, where another dance was going to start soon.

"Weren't you hungry?" Maria murmured up to him.

"Yes, but proving myself to my father is something I have rarely been able to do. Life at Moonacre was very different before you got here, you know."

"I know," she said soberly. Robin and his father had often been at odds. "Well then," she brightened up, "we shall show your father the best dancing he has ever seen."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I happen to have had over a dozen years of dance lessons, and if ever there was a reason for them, this is it."

"Let's do this, then." His dark eyes were already dancing.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you so much for continuing with me on this story! It has been about a year since the first chapter was published; I am hoping to finish it before 2018 is out! Your reviews are greatly appreciated, and your ideas for future plots, characters, settings, conflicts etc. are heartily welcomed. I will no longer waste your time, but I wish you a Merry Christmas and happy reading!

Your

Ponygirl7


	31. Stormclouds

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Robin and Maria swept out onto the floor just as a waltz was beginning. Unlike the polka, this dance was smooth and gliding, which allowed for intimate conversation with one's partner.

"Don't look at them," Robin murmured. "I want this to look effortless. Without concern."

"Paradoxical." Maria chuckled.

"Hm?"

"You are deeply concerned about this looking as without concern as possible."

"Oh, just dance with me, Maria."

"Very well." They promenaded in step to form a wide circle with the other couples. Robin bowed, Maria curtsied most elegantly. They rose and assumed waltzing position: holding hands on the inside of the circle while the outside hands rested on the shoulder of the gentleman and the back of the lady. Maria was once again pleased with Robin's dancing. He kept a confident frame, gentle hands, and light feet. She twirled into his arms, then back out again.

It was at this point that the lady was to transfer to the next gentleman. Maria had been so excited to dance that she had forgotten what it entailed: dancing with other partners than her selected one. But she twirled with a gracious smile into the arms of the next gentleman, a young man she'd never seen before. He must be a local from the De Noir village. Not bad looking, she had to admit. But there was no time for such thoughts. She spun, dipped, and swayed with determined poise. The pace was picking up. Longer strides were required. This young man was a surprisingly good dancer.

They changed direction. Maria had an opportunity to look for Robin and his partner, who she found to be a girl of about ten years. From what Maria could see, the child was clumsy but vivacious; not exactly best suited to showcase Robin's dancing skills. Nevertheless, he led on undaunted. Maria returned her attentions to her partner.

"Ambrose." He said. "That's my name. I don't need to ask yours. We all admire you, Maria." She frowned, unsure as to his meaning. He clarified. "Saving our home. I don't think I would have liked getting annihilated, but that's just me." Maria laughed lightly. It was at this unfortunate moment that Robin chose to steal a glance at Maria to see how she was faring with her partner. And to see Maria laughing with some other fellow brought a shadow over Robin's eyes.

Now the men lifted the women, twirling them swiftly. Maria always enjoyed this part; she found the rush of flying for however brief a moment exhilarating. Her smile flashed as she thanked Ambrose. Robin saw it. From their seat at the table, Lillian observed quietly,

"It should not have been a waltz, I think. Well, he will have to learn."

"I'm sorry Lily, I didn't hear you." Coeur De Noir leaned forward.

"That's all right. I was just remarking on the dance."

They changed direction. Now the ladies had a momentary solo of pirouetting. Maria's shimmering gown flared out, catching the light like gossamer. With her cheeks flushed and eyes bright, she was a most becoming picture. Ambrose was very aware he was dancing with the belle of the ball, and he felt supremely blessed.

"Miss Heliotrope is your teacher, is she not?"

"Tutor, yes. She is very accomplished."

"I should say so. You are no doubt her greatest accomplishment."

"You are gallant, sir. I wish only to make her proud of me." Maria grinned as she spun. "She has had to put up with me for so many years I wonder she has not gone insane."

"I should think it a pleasure to teach such a young lady as yourself."

"You forget that I was not always a young lady. Not so long ago I was a little girl who despised classical French needlepoint and favored teasing the staff over doing her arithmetic."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I speak only what is true."

"I _do_ believe that."

"But you just contradicted yourself."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Never mind. What of you? Your history?"

"I've lived in De Noir village all my life. I am a hunter."

"That's it?" She arched her eyebrows.

"I'm not terribly interesting."

"There is often more to people than they believe."

"Who said that?"

"I don't know. Me, I suppose." Their steps now lengthened and they promenaded across the dance floor, finally dancing in line with other couples. Their conversation had to pause for a moment as Maria joined the other ladies in the middle. Ambrose's green eyes followed his partner as she rejoined him.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are lovely?"

"Probably." Her tone was that of a shrug. Ambrose laughed in response. "I try not to pay much attention to compliments. One might get vain, you know." She dipped under his arms.

"I would hardly suspect you of falling prey to vanity."

"That's because you don't know me well."

"Then let me get to know you, and I'll determine that for myself." It was at this point that the ladies turned back to their original partners, curtsied, then fell back to their second gentleman. Maria merrily curtsied to Robin, not quite seeing the storm clouds that were gathering in his eyes. She merely assumed aggravation at a less-than-proficient partner and smiled brightly to cheer him before turning back to Ambrose.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked him.

"Nothing much." The couples formed a cross. "Are you busy tomorrow?" Ambrose circled Maria with nimble steps. Maria frowned slightly.

"As a matter of fact, I am." She did not want to give the wrong impression. "I wonder how Robin is faring," she inclined her head towards the young man in question.

"Struggling with a toddler, from the looks of it. You two are friends, yes?"

"That girl is nearly ten years old! Hardly a toddler." She clicked her tongue in disapproval as they waltzed. "But no, I don't know her." She pirouetted like a top around him. The violinists were picking up, and the dance was nearing its close. When he was able to tear his eyes from Maria, Ambrose noted that his companions were all looking upon him with envy. Why not prolong their agony and heighten their jealousy?

"Might I have the next dance with you? I believe it's a quadrille, which will allow for more talking."

"If we have not been talking, please do explain to me what we've been doing the past ten minutes." She said, hoping to avoid saying no. Ambrose laughed.

"Right you are. Perhaps you would care for punch?"

"I've had some, thank you." They reached the final promenade. Ambrose was not dim-witted; she had not readily agreed to dance with him again, and he would have to leave it at that. They twirled one last time and paused. Ambrose bowed, Maria curtsied.

"Thank you for a lovely dance," Maria said sincerely. She knew that the odds of getting a graceful partner were slim. He smiled.

"The pleasure was mine." She returned the smile before turning to find Robin. She did not have to look very hard. He was already striding toward her.

"Did you enjoy the dance?" Maria chuckled, but her smile quickly slid from her face. Something was amiss. Robin surged past her, grabbing Ambrose roughly by the arm. They exchanged words that Maria could not decipher, but she could hear Robin's low tone…almost menacing. In a moment he turned back to her, jaw clenched.

"Robin, what _is_ the matter?" she demanded, trying to hide her worry.

"Can we talk?"

"I think we'd better." She replied, mystified and slightly angry with him. Leave it to Robin to find something to bicker about at a ball.

And it'd been such a lovely evening, too.

A/N: Beloved readers,

Thank you for reading this chapter! A shame, the dance had been going so well. Thank you for the kind reviews you've been leaving. I really do appreciate them. I love you all. Happy reading!

Your

Ponygirl7


	32. Announcements & Arguments

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"I admit the first bit was good," Coeur De Noir said gruffly, draining his glass of punch, "but after the changing of partners, Robin's skill lessened decidedly."

"I agree. One cannot help but wonder why," Lillian smiled to herself.

"Where did he go? Trying to avoid us, I expect. I shall have to go find him." He made an effort to rise, but Lillian laid a hand on his.

"Pray, don't." Lillian urged him. "No doubt he has lovelier ladies than I to entertain."

"I challenge him to present one." Coeur De Noir said stoutly. Lillian couldn't conceal the smile this brought to her lips, but she was worried for Robin and Maria. She had seen the manner in which they exited the ballroom, and none of it seemed to suggest anything blissful.

Meanwhile, Loveday and Sir Benjamin were talking quietly in a corner.

"But I don't want to steal Miss Heliotrope and Digweed's spotlight!" Loveday protested. "This evening is all about them."

"This evening is all about _celebration_ ," Sir Benjamin corrected, "And what could be more celebratory than a new Merryweather?"

"We don't even know if it's a boy or girl."

"They won't care!"

"Benjamin!"

"I just mean that they'll be excited just to be aware of him—her—uh, it."

"Perhaps we ought to consult Miss Heliotrope and Digweed first. After all, it is their party."

"Last time I checked, this is my house. _Our_ house."

"Benjamin, at least ask permission. Please?" He sighed.

"Yes, darling." And so they walked carefully over to Miss Heliotrope and Digweed, who were now sitting wearily at a table, having danced until their feet could hardly support them. Sir Benjamin leaned down to whisper in Miss Heliotrope's ear. Then, since she could not hear him, he said it quietly. But the music was loud, and so he was obliged to speak up again. Finally, when Miss Heliotrope at last understood and smiled in delight, he had spoken loud enough for the surrounding tables to hear. Loveday took her husband's arm.

"I think there is little need for us to make a public announcement now," she grinned. "Within the next five minutes, everyone in the room will know."

"That will save me the trouble of interrupting the musicians. How efficient of me." He chuckled, kissing Loveday's cheek. Loveday sighed happily. If only everyone could be as content as she in this moment!

Maria followed Robin out of the ballroom. He marched into the piano room, which was illuminated only by the cool blue light of the moon. Maria paused at the top of the stairs, not quite descending into the room.

"What's wrong, Robin?" She planted her hands on her hips. Whatever it was, he was surely overreacting. What cause could he have for behaving as he was?

"Ambrose." Robin hadn't turned around.

"Yes, he was my second partner. What of him?"

"Do you know him?"

"I hadn't met him before the dance. Why?" Robin turned around.

"You were smiling with him. While you danced." Maria's brow creased.

"I…yes, I was smiling. We were talking."

"He was dancing very close with you."

Now Maria understood. She couldn't help chuckling.

"Robin, are you jealous?"

"Maria, I'm not joking about this. He likes you."

"I like him."

" _What?_ "

"As nothing more than a pleasant _acquaintance_ , Robin. Am I not allowed to have friends?"

"Not like him." He muttered.

"I can be friends with any and everyone I please, Robin. No one has the right to _dictate_ to me with whom I should be talking or smiling."

"But Maria—"

"I might remind you that for a long while Miss Heliotrope utterly despised you and your manners. Did that stop me from talking to you?"

"So now you're saying I'm on the same level with that guy?"

"What? I am simply pointing out that as it is _my_ life, I am allowed to be friends with anyone I like."

"So you want to dance with him more?"

"Robin, I have no romantic interest in him whatsoever. I just liked talking to him." Robin' eyebrows raised.

"You liked talking to me, too. And now we're courting."

"Are you saying that just by talking to Ambrose, I might decide to court him?"

"That's what happened with us, isn't it?"

"There was a little more than that, Robin. But I would have hoped that you had a little more confidence in me than to think I would fall in love with every young man I talked to!"

"It's not a matter of confidence, Maria, it's a matter of spending time with someone for so long that—"

"Robin, I can't believe you're getting so worked up over one little dance. You'll notice that I am not rebuking you for dancing with that little girl."

"She was ten years old!"

"How does age make a difference? Ambrose is probably older than us."

"But he's a handsome young man. Not as good-looking as me, of course, but still—"

"Even arguing, you don't lose your pride."

"Tell me that Ambrose is unattractive."

"I can't do that and be honest."

"Then you admit you find him attractive?"

"Robin, he's not _ugly_. But why you would think that that alone would entice me to fall in love with him, I don't know."

"Yes but _Maria_ …" he sighed heavily. "Oh, never mind. I don't know how I got it into my head that I could have any say on who you danced with."

"Thank you." She nodded.

"Just go dance with him. Dance with all of the guys out there, see if I care."

"Oh, Robin, that's not what I—"

"No, just go. You like to dance, go dance. I'll bet most of them are better dancers than me. Maybe I'll find some girls to talk to. Run along and enjoy yourself." He spoke so hotly, so irritably. Maria narrowed her eyes.

"Very well." She pursed her lips. "I hope you find stimulating conversation." She turned on her heel and swept back to the ballroom, leaving Robin to cool his temper in the fragile moonlight.

A/N: Dear readers,

I'm sorry Maria and Robin have quarreled. But it is shadow that gives life dimension. How lovely about Sir Benjamin and Loveday! They're such a rosy couple. At any rate, thank you for continuing with me through this story. Your reviews are appreciated; any and all thoughts regarding this story, my past stories, and potential ideas for stories are heartily welcomed.

I remain your

Ponygirl7


	33. Blurred

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Robin fumed for a moment. Here he had thought he _meant_ something to her, but apparently he was no different than the rest of the young men to be caught up in her fancies. She had consented to _court_ him, for goodness' sake! You'd think she'd show a bit more propriety with other men.

But then, what did this scruffy hunter know about propriety?

Well, he knew one thing. He was bound and determined to enjoy this evening. One prim, proper young lady might not prefer him, but he knew for a fact that there were other girls who admired from afar. Until now, he'd never given them a second thought.

Now, however, they weren't looking so bad. He would do well to surround himself with people that liked him. A confidence boost sounded good right about now.

This in mind, he skipped lightly up the steps and turned sharply to head back into the ballroom. His boots left a scuff mark on the pristine floor. Well, someone else would clean it. Robin entered the whirling, musical gaiety once more, but the merry mood struck him as ironic, mocking.

He ignored the fact that Maria was dancing quickly, almost determinedly, with Ambrose, whose hand rested so easily on her waist. Robin hardly noticed the way her curls bounced up and down as she moved. What did he care that her cheeks were all the rosier from the exertion? No, he really didn't notice these things at all.

Training his eyes away from the dance floor, Robin skirted the outside of the ballroom and made his way to a more secluded corner. It was here he found his countrymen, more people from the De Noir village. It was easy to distinguish these people, for they were dressed solely in black. Robin was about to draw up a chair when he heard,

"Hello there, stranger." It was a kittenish voice. A girl batted her eyes up at him. Perfect. Except…she _was_ a stranger. Wasn't she? Did he know her? He racked his brain.

"Hello…"

"Jackie."

"Sorry?"

"My name. It's Jackie. Have a seat, do." He did. "Why, don't you remember me?" He didn't. "I'm a servant. I serve almost your every meal."

"Oh." He frowned. Maybe he did remember her. She never wore such a dress when she was serving. Or maybe she did; he wouldn't have noticed before.

"And…are you enjoying the evening?" she asked innocently.

"Let's just say I plan to enjoy it."

"I see." Jackie's eyes glittered as they flitted to the dance floor. She certainly did see. She slid an ivory hand onto his. "I'd be happy to help." He chuckled. He knew she would. He wasn't daft. He let his eyes wander past the dance floor. He saw Coeur De Noir leaving. Good. And had Miss Heliotrope and Digweed retired for the evening? Excellent. Now there was only Sir Benjamin, Loveday, and Lillian to worry about. Well, he needn't worry about them. This was Maria's doing, after all. If she could dance with anyone, so could he.

"Do you want to dance?"

"I'd love to."

They stood. Jackie's eyes gleamed victoriously, and she smiled proudly past Robin at a horde of girls who practically radiated jealousy. Well, Robin could dance with them all in turn. He took Jackie out onto the dance floor. It was a jolly reel; many of the adults had retired by now, and the musicians were hearing requests from the younger dancers for livelier dances.

Out stepped Robin and Jackie. Soon they were flying. Robin had had slight concerns about the speed of the dance and the effect it would have upon length of her skirt (or lack thereof), but they moved so fast that any indiscretions were blurred. Jackie was not a good dancer, but she moved with energy and bore an enthralled expression, which was really all Robin needed at this point. Let Maria see him dancing with a girl who adored him. Let Maria imagine all sorts of things. Robin pasted a smug expression on his face and danced on.

When that dance was finished, Robin escorted Jackie back to the table. He was easily able to handsomely coerce another girl into bringing him a drink, preferably a strong one. Soon he was dancing again, this time with some older lady named Dora, whose scarlet red lips were the only definite thing in the room that was now beginning to blur. After Dora, he danced with Jackie again, and then sat out for a while to enjoy the drinks. Oddly enough, he hadn't noticed alcoholic beverages at the punch table. Perhaps the De Noir villagers had brought their own. Robin was able to focus his eyes long enough to note that Loveday and Benjamin weren't present anymore. Was it just him, or was the place getting dimmer?

Robin continued to dance. The supply of eager young ladies didn't seem to run short; though perhaps he was dancing with repetitions now. It wasn't as though he could be expected to tell them all apart. It was becoming increasingly harder to ignore the pain in his feet. When he sat down again, he could see well enough that the candles were beginning to burn low.

"What late it is now?" he asked the young woman beside him.

"What?"

"I said, how time is it?"

"Late."

"Oh." He'd probably better go home. There didn't seem to be as many people here as before. It was definitely getting dimmer. The one corner of Robin's brain that was still functioning, albeit groggily, insisted on putting up his feet and going to bed.

He stood, waited a moment for the room to stop spinning, and made his way out of the manor. Outside the ballroom, everything was quiet. He stumbled to the door and opened it, a cold blast of wind hitting him full on. Slamming his hat down securely on his head, Robin staggered off into the woods.

A/N: Dear reader,

Don't you just hate Robin right now? I do. At least, I hate what he's doing. At any rate, I hope he redeems himself. Poor Maria.

Thank you for reading this story so far! Your reviews are GREATLY appreciated. Love you all!

Your

Ponygirl7


	34. Weary

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Out of the corner of her eye, Maria saw Robin leave. Well, he'd stayed long enough. It wasn't as though he was needed here. She tried to smile up at Ambrose as he led her into a pirouette. But she was growing weary, and the night was growing late. Or was it morning? She couldn't tell. The candles' wax was beginning to pool at the base. When the musicians played the final chord, Maria looked up from her curtsy.

The ballroom's population was sparse. There were a few De Noirs left, including Ambrose. More men than ladies. Many of the ladies had left when Robin had left. Not that Maria had noticed, of course. Why would she have noticed that? It wasn't as though she'd been watching Robin drink himself into a haze in the corner and dance with the most distasteful girls. No, Maria's mind was focused on the dance and on Ambrose. Quite focused.

"You look weary, Maria. Can I get you a drink?"

"No, thank you. I believe we were out of punch, last I checked."

"My friends and I brought some refreshments just in case your little punch bowl ran dry."

 _So I noticed._

"No; I thank you, but I am not thirsty. I have had my fill tonight—of drink and of dance."

"Can I escort you to a table?" His hand snaked around her waist.

"Actually, I'm feeling quite fatigued. I think I'll retire for the evening."

"May I join you?"

"I beg your pardon?" She blinked.

"That is, shall I escort you to your room?"

"That won't be necessary."

"I insist."

Maria's mind raced. She could not allow this, even if his intentions were well meant. Her eyes, tired though they were, caught on a familiar figure at a table.

"As a matter of fact, I have something to discuss with my friend, Lillian. Do excuse me." She ignored Ambrose's smooth protests and offers, slipping from his grasp and making a bee line for Lillian.

"You escaped, I see?" Lillian chuckled as Maria sat down.

"I—no, he was a very kind partner." Maria's cheeks flushed.

"I'm sure he was, dear." There was something too knowing about that tone. Maria changed the subject.

"Has Coeur De Noir gone home?"

"Yes, indeed. We older folk do not have the stamina to carry on like you young ones."

"I'd hardly call you old."

"Thank you, dear. I like to think that I'm still young at heart." Maria didn't quite know what to say to that. Oh, how her feet hurt! She let out a little sigh, and in response to Lillian's questioning look, said,

"My feet are quite sore."

"I can imagine! You've been dancing for hours, it seems."

"Yes," Maria said absently. "Hours."

"Though I must say I expected to see you dance a few more with Robin." Lillian knit her brow. Maria sighed. "Come now; what's the matter?" Maria met Lillian's gaze, willing herself not to cry.

"I don't know. I don't know! He was jealous. It was one dance! And he began telling me what I could and couldn't do, and we argued, and—" she sniffed, "and then I saw him, sitting with those _girls_ —he's _never_ liked them before—and he was doing it to spite me. Me! I didn't start the argument. I just don't know why—" she swallowed hard, "But it is _my_ life, and he can't just—" she wiped an eye, "And then he had to go and _drink_ , and I abhor it when he drinks, and he knows that—" a sob escaped her lips, "and oh, I just need to go to bed!" She rose. She didn't know when the musicians had stopped playing, but now they were cleaning up. She took a deep breath.

"I'd better thank them, I guess. I know we paid in advance—"

"Don't worry about that, dear," Lillian said, standing too, "I'll thank them. You just worry about getting a good night's rest." She smoothed Maria's hair tenderly. "Things will look better in the morning, I promise. These things have a way of working themselves out."

"I—I hope so," Maria exhaled shakily. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome. Now run along!" Lillian watched Maria trail off to her room. Smoothing a lock behind her ear, Lillian regained her composure and went to thank the musicians. She shooed the remaining youngsters from the manor and blew out the candles. What an evening! She crossed the cold, darkened for the final time, but she couldn't suppress a little twirl. She felt more like a young lady in love than Maria right now. And to think: tomorrow she would see Coeur De Noir again.

Maria nestled down beneath her sheets. Here in the solitude of her room, she allowed the tears to flow freely. The stars on her ceiling twinkled reassuringly. Why would Robin act like that? It made no sense. It made no sense at all. He had no right to be jealous of Ambrose. The dance dictated a change of partners, that was all. And Robin could not get angry every time she talked to or smiled at a young man. Ambrose had been a very nice young man. That is…he had been. Towards the end, even Maria had felt slightly more conscious of his arms around her than usual. Offering to escort her to her room was either naïvely thoughtful or terribly wicked. And offering her strong drink was not at all proper. Perhaps…Maria sniffled. She hated to think it, but perhaps Robin had had more reason than she gave him credit for. Perhaps he knew Ambrose a little better than she did. Perhaps he knew that Ambrose's intentions were not all pure. Perhaps he was trying to protect her.

And yet he should have just said so! Who was he to run her life? What right did he have…? And just this evening, he had wanted to court her. Now he was stumbling through the forest, drunk, probably with some sly girls. She shivered in her bed. Her anger was weakening, for she was so very tired. She would be angry with him tomorrow, she reasoned. And with that resolute thought, she surrendered herself to sweet sleep.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you for keeping up! Your reviews are heartily welcomed, as are new ideas for Moonacre (or other) stories. I apologize if you were expecting a longer author's note, for, like Maria, I am fatigued. Good day!

Your weary

Ponygirl7


	35. Life Must Go On

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

By the time Maria's eyes fluttered open the next day, it was already midmorning, and the sun had already risen. Sore from the previous evening's activities, she sat up slowly. As she sat in bed, the memories of last night trickled back.

"Oh…oh, _Robin_ ," she groaned. Why did he have to be so idiotic about things? She sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. Then she frowned. It wouldn't do to sulk. It was up to Robin to apologize; Maria had done absolutely nothing wrong. If he wanted to beg forgiveness, he knew where to find her. She straightened her shoulders and slid out of bed.

Robin or not, life must go on. Cranberry bread must be baked. She had already wasted time by sleeping in. If only she had retired early yesterday. If only her stubborn pride hadn't kept her dancing with Ambrose. Well, it hadn't been entirely unpleasant, either.

No. It wouldn't do to dwell on the events of yesterday, Maria scolded herself. Better to focus on the task at hand: gifts. She would make cranberry bread for Marmaduke and Coeur De Noir. She would have to finish the baby blanket for Uncle and Aunt, and she would give the honeymoon trip and the brooch to Miss Heliotrope and Digweed—the brooch.

Robin had put the brooch in his pocket.

Maria huffed. Why did her life have to be so difficult? Well, she would worry about the brooch later. She would bake cranberry bread the rest of this morning, with or without Robin. Lifting her chin resolutely, Maria began to dress. Today she wore a simple woolen blue-gray dress, buttons up the front. After tying a fresh white apron around her waist, she pulled back her hair in a braid and glanced in the mirror. Not that her appearance mattered today. It wasn't as though Robin would see. She clenched her jaw.

Maria made her way to the kitchen. Marmaduke had not yet begun to prepare lunch, but the remnants of what appeared to have been a splendid breakfast were still on the counter. A little plate sat awaiting Maria's arrival. Heart warmed at this gesture, Maria munched a piece of toast as she retrieved the ingredients she needed. Flour, butter, brown sugar, eggs…she bustled around busily in the hopes that her mind might not wander to distasteful topics.

"Might there be any way in which your servant might assist you, my princess?" Maria jumped. She hadn't noticed Marmaduke enter.

"Actually, I'm working on your Christmas present." Her cheeks reddened slightly. She knew that anything she made wouldn't measure up to Marmaduke's own cooking, but wasn't it the thought that counted?

"Ah. Well, carry on; I shall entertain myself with the gardens."

"Thank you," she managed a smile before he zipped off. She added another log to the stove. It was nearly hot enough. She poured her mixture into four loaf pans. One for Marmaduke, one for Coeur De Noir, one for Lillian, and one for Maria. After all the trouble she'd gone through to make these, she figured she might as well reap some of the rewards. It _would_ have been easier with a helper, but she couldn't have Marmaduke make his own present—and Robin certainly hadn't shown his face this morning, she thought bitterly.

While her loaves baked, Maria helped Marmaduke tend the garden. Not that he needed any help—in fact, she was likely slowing him down. But she needed _some_ thing to do, and pulling weeds was an appropriately menial task. Eventually the sweet smell of bread began to waft up into the garden, and Maria removed them from the stove. She drizzled the sweet orange glaze over the top—orange glaze Robin would not be tasting.

By the time she had finished, Marmaduke had already returned to the kitchen to prepare a luncheon. Feeling herself in the way, Maria taxied her breads up to her room to store. Then she took up what would soon become a baby blanket and made her way down to the piano room.

"Hello, Maria," Lillian looked up briefly from her playing.

"Hello. That's lovely. What is it?" Maria inquired after the song Lillian was coaxing from the piano.

"I don't know," she replied. "Do you like it?"

"You don't mean to say you're making that up?" Maria sat down in one of the many elegant but uncomfortable chairs.

"Yes," Lillian smiled. She seemed positively radiant this morning, Maria thought grudgingly. Well, why shouldn't she be? _Her_ romantic interest had his head on straight. She clicked her needles together quickly, channeling her frustration into something positive. Lillian glanced up and, noting Maria's expression, adjusted her playing. A slower, despondent tune floated up, yearning and sighing.

The change in music wasn't lost on Maria. She had a feeling Lillian was well aware of her mood this morning. But she let the song play out, as it were, and only when the final chord had been struck in all its minor melancholy did Maria speak.

"What do you think I should do?"

Lillian lifted her hands from the keys and pivoted on the bench to face Maria.

"My dear, I am not the most experienced in matters of the heart."

"But you seem so…so composed!" The corners of Lillian's lips quirked up.

"Is that a music joke?" This abated Maria's frustration slightly.

"Not intentionally. But I mean it. At least tell me your thoughts on my predicament." She set her knitting down on her lap in earnest. Lillian's wry smile softened.

"I think—purely my own thoughts, mind you—that Robin ought to apologize. He acted in an abominable fashion, if you don't mind my saying so—"

"My thoughts exactly," Maria nodded triumphantly.

"But you weren't without fault yourself. None of us ever are."

"You think I shouldn't have danced with Ambrose so much." Maria lowered her gaze.

"Well, dear, I must say—"

"No, no, you are right. I felt very spiteful. Robin told me to dance with all the other gentlemen, and I readily did. I suppose it showed poor character on my part."

"It was undoubtedly better than turning to the drink," Lillian frowned, "but at any rate, let us look forward. Coeur De Noir is coming for lunch, and perhaps—"

" _Is_ he now?" Maria wiggled her eyebrows comically. Lillian blushed.

"Yes, and perhaps he'll bring Robin with him. They ought to be arriving soon."

"I don't even know if Robin will be in a fit enough state to have a conversation, let alone apologize," Maria bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. Remembering Robin stumbling about in his inebriated state made something in her stomach hurt.

A knock at the door roused her from her thoughts.

"That must be them," Lillian said, rising swiftly.

"Or just him," Maria muttered glumly.

"Let us hope for the best," Lillian said. "Come, accompany me to greet them." So Maria rose with a heavy heart and went to greet the visitors.

A/N: Dear readers,

Thanks for reading! I feel wretched for Maria; don't you? I wonder what happened to Robin and Ambrose after the ball. Perhaps we'll get a peek into that next chapter. Please review :)

Your devoted

Ponygirl7


	36. Drunks & Daggers

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Ambrose trotted down the stairs to the De Noir's Great Hall. It was midmorning, and he was starving. Dancing until early in the morning did that to a person, he smirked. Well, Maria had been quite taken with him, if he did say so himself. Seating himself at the long table, he signaled a serving maid and requested a meal fit for a king. Or a prince.

Ambrose chuckled. If he married the Moon Princess, he would be a prince. And he'd likely get the manor; Sir Benjamin couldn't live forever. There was that business with him and Loveday having a baby, but there were ways of dealing with that. A life of ease and luxury as opposed to this primitive existence of hunting and labor appealed to him—not to mention, Maria wasn't bad looking herself. But first, he had to secure the girl's affections. Not that it would be difficult. She and Robin had had an argument, and of course she would need consoling. Why shouldn't he be the one to offer it?

As he ate, Ambrose watched the girls in the kitchen. One in particular seemed happy. What was her name? Jackie. He'd flirted with her of course, but her family was penniless, and she was only a servant. Ambrose couldn't afford to waste much time on lowly folk like herself.

He wiped his mouth carefully with a cloth napkin, checking his reflection in a goblet. Yes, even with few hours of sleep, he looked good. He stood from the table and made his way out. As he passed the head of the table, he heard Coeur De Noir speaking. Ambrose slowed to listen.

"What do you mean, you can't find him? Maybe he stayed at the manor." He let loose a heavy, fatherly sigh. "Well, I've got an appointment I can't miss. He'll turn up, no doubt."

He could only be talking about Robin. And he was missing? Ambrose frowned. Probably best Maria didn't hear about this. It'd trouble her, and he couldn't have that. He pulled his thick cloak round about him and strode through the village with all the confidence of a gambler with four aces. Grinning to himself about how fine his garments would be once he was situated in the manor, he walked down into the forest. The snow was still relatively deep, which in some places compressed his proud walk to an awkward shuffle. Much of the snow had been tamped down from the large party last night.

Deep in the woods now, Ambrose was grateful for the unclouded sun. He'd never liked the woods much. Too wild. But at least with some friendly light, he could manage to find his way. Perhaps when he was lord of the manor he would cut down the forests and have some open bare fields. Yes, that would do nicely.

A grunt jolted him back to reality. He froze. Was it a feral animal? He began to reach down to his boot, in which he always kept a dagger. Just in case. His eyes caught on a dark figure sprawled in the shadow of a shrub. An animal? He peered closer. No, a _person_.

The person began to move. Ambrose watched. They moaned painfully as they stood and began to mutter,

"Where—who—" Ambrose stiffened momentarily, then willed himself to relax. He smiled, making it seem easy.

"Good day to you, Robin."

"Hello—" Robin blinked rapidly. "How did I—"

"Do you remember nothing from last night?"

"Last night?" Robin screwed up his features in concentration. "Ugh, my head _hurts_ —" he groaned for a long moment. Then he frowned. "Actually, I do remember last night." He looked up at Ambrose, eyes menacingly dark. "Pretty well." Ambrose shifted his weight. Robin's eyes narrowed. "And where would you be going this fine morning?"

Ambrose considered his options. He could say lightly that he was going back to the De Noir village, thereby insinuating he had stayed at the manor. But this wasn't logical, since Robin knew Maria's nature. Ambrose had only met her last night, but he could tell she was not a girl of impropriety.

"Well?" Robin's eyes betrayed his dizziness, but his voice was deadly calm.

"Going hunting."

"You don't hunt, Ambrose," Robin enunciated sharply, "not animals, anyway."

"Why do you care what I do?"

"I care when it involves my girl."

"That wench isn't _your_ girl, whatever you say."

"Watch your tongue."

"Maria danced more with me last night than she's ever danced with you in your life." Ambrose's eyes were dancing now.

"Don't you dare say—"

"Am I wrong? Did you not quarrel? Was I getting mixed signals when she marched in and took my hand and demanded we dance?" He may have been exaggerating the truth a bit, but it served his purpose. Robin began to speak, but Ambrose cut him off. "Perhaps it was my imagination, but I almost thought I saw you getting drunk in a corner with some girls of _questionable_ character—"

"The only person with 'questionable character' is you—"

"And then you danced so sloppily, I'm sure Maria was ashamed she'd ever associated with you. I mean really, look at you now! Sleeping in the forest, awakening with a hangover, sloppy, immature, clumsy, poor manners, crude, dirty—"

"You take that back or so help me—" Robin paused.

"Or what?" Ambrose taunted, schooling his features into a mask of haughty indifference. He knew Robin was much stronger and more agile than him. But Ambrose could bluff.

Robin squared his jaw. He sorely wanted to pound this pretty boy into a pulp. But Maria wouldn't like that. Did she like Ambrose? Well, in beating Ambrose up, Robin wouldn't be showing refined manners.

Ambrose must have noticed this hesitation. He smirked.

"I can see you had a rough night, but there's no use taking it out on me." He reprimanded innocently. "I, for one, had a most enjoyable evening. Though I confess I wasn't quite prepared for the fire with which she kissed. Never before have I encountered such _passion_ —"

But he got no further. Robin launched into Ambrose. They landed on the ground. Robin threw a heavy punch. Ambrose squeaked. He clawed at Robin's face. He scratched and bit and pinched. The young men rolled and tussled. Then rolled apart and stood. Breathing heavily, they eyed each other. Robin's gaze was slightly hazy.

Ambrose chuckled.

Robin charged. He tackled him, but not before Ambrose could land one solid fist on Robin's left eye. This infuriated Robin even more—he had handsome eyes, and he knew it—and he fought with all the vigor he could muster. Ambrose squirmed and scraped. They rolled apart again and got to their feet, breaths coming ragged. Ambrose squatted. Robin frowned, blinking to focus.

Ambrose's hand emerged from his boot. He sent something hurtling through the air towards Robin. It glistened. Robin's still foggy brain interpreted too slowly. He moved just as the dagger struck his shoulder. Robin fell. His gaze flickered. He saw Ambrose's hooded form fleeing.

But he couldn't pass out here. He might lose too much blood. Robin grunted, then hauled himself to a sitting position. Ah, but it hurt! The dagger was still embedded. Robin jerked it out, gasping. He wiped the blade in the snow and shoved it in his pocket. The blood was bright crimson against the snow. Clutching his shoulder, he rose shakily to his feet. He needed help. He'd seen people die of infections from wounds. Now where was he?

Robin gauged the area. It would be a long walk to the De Noir village. Moonacre Manor wasn't far. Maria was still angry with him, but that didn't matter right now. He was wounded. He could deal with matters of the heart later. Right now he had to make sure his heart kept beating. He staggered slowly.

The combination of hangover and dagger wound did not make for good travelling.

But he would make it.

He had to.

Ambrose would not lay a hand on Maria, not while Robin still had breath. Driven by this thought, he plunged onward through the forest.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thanks for sticking with me! Thoughts on our character thus far? I'd be happy to hear. Also, what think you of my original characters (mostly Ambrose and Jackie)? Sorry I didn't publish anything for Valentine's Day; life is too busy, as always. At any rate, I wish you happy reading!

Your devoted

Ponygirl7


	37. Commotion

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"Welcome—" Lillian broke off as she opened the door. "Oh, _Robin!_ "

Maria looked up quickly. Her heart leapt when she heard his name—but then she gasped. Blood streaked down the front of Robin's suit.

"Robin, what happened?" She stared.

"Stabbed—a dagger—" he grunted, "can I come in?" Maria blinked.

"Why yes, of course," Lillian ushered him in, guiding him to a chair. Maria closed the door, dazed. Through the blood pounding in her ears, she was barely able to hear Lillian talking to him.

"But how did it happen? And why are you still in these clothes? Does your father know? Maria, run and get Sir Benjamin and Loveday." Lillian turned back to Robin, but Maria didn't budge. Lillian glanced back. "Maria?" Maria looked up to meet her gaze and sucked in a breath.

"Yes. Uncle and Loveday. Yes, right away." She began to walk away, but the walk quickly turned into a run. She shed her house slippers and dashed down the corridor barefoot. "Uncle? Loveday? Uncle?!" She found Loveday in a parlor room.

"Dear child, what is it?" Loveday looked up from her embroidery.

"Robin's been stabbed—oh, please come!" Loveday's eyes widened. She bolted from her seat, spilling her work across the floor.

"Take me to him—" but Maria was already running. Loveday followed back to the entry room. Lillian had removed his suit coat, revealing his white shirt that was now drenched in blood. Maria stopped short. Loveday ran into her. "I'm sorry dear," Loveday sped around her. "Robin, dear Robin, what happened?" She immediately began to inspect the wound.

"Ambrose—we fought—didn't realize he had a knife, though." He winced at Loveday's cool fingers. "Didn't want an infection. I know you could help."

"Yes, well, it was right to come here," Loveday studied it. "Lillian, we have medical supplies in the bathroom—"

"Yes, of course." Lillian disappeared in a moment.

"Dagger's in my pocket," Robin fumbled around awkwardly with his other arm, finally emerging with the weapon. It glinted cruelly. Maria shuddered, feet glued to the floor. Her gaze wandered over Robin. He had a black eye too, and bloody scrapes on his neck and jaw.

"What's all the commotion—" Sir Benjamin jogged in, Wrolf trotting at his side. "What _happened_ to _you_?" He gaped. "Loveday? What…?"

"He's been stabbed, darling," Loveday answered, her voice surprisingly calm. "But he won't die." Maria let out an inaudible whoosh of air.

"Is that the dagger?" Sir Benjamin stepped forward, taking it from Robin. "Stylish. Whose is it?"

"Ambrose. A young flirt with ambition," Loveday frowned as she worked. Lillian returned with a small medical kit. "Thank you," Loveday took it quickly. "I remember him vaguely. Very popular with the girls. Not so with the gentlemen." She cleaned the wound. Robin let out a long hiss of pain.

A knock sounded at the door. Lillian started at the sound, then went to open it.

"Good morning, Lillian!" Coeur De Noir's cheerful voice rang out. "Fine day, isn't it?"

"Not at the moment, no. Please come in," Lillian's voice was strained. Coeur De Noir stepped inside and surveyed the scene, eyes settling on Robin.

"Robin?" He saw the dagger in Sir Benjamin's hands. His caterpillar eyebrows lowered in anger. "Who did this to you?" His body trembled.

"Father, he will be fine, I am sure," Loveday placated him, not looking up from her work.

"He doesn't look fine!" Coeur De Noir bellowed. "A man doesn't get stabbed by accident! Where is the culprit?"

"Ambrose took off," Robin shook his head. "I don't remember where he was heading."

"Ambrose," Coeur De Noir muttered. He glanced around. "I'll be back."

"Father, wait," Robin said. "It was my fault; I threw the first punch, anyway. He's a coward." His expression soured. "I don't like him, but he was just scared. He didn't really intend to kill me or anything." Coeur De Noir took a long hard look at his son.

"Be that as it may," he inhaled deeply, "I will have no criminals roaming my—" his gaze flickered to Sir Benjamin, "—our woods. We'll find him." He turned fully to Sir Benjamin now. "I came by foot. May I borrow—"

"Take any horse in the stable," Sir Benjamin turned to the coat rack and grabbed his cloak. "In fact, I'll come with you. I need to do something. Come, Wrolf." The men swept out of the manor.

"I'm doing what I can," Loveday said, "but we're going to need a doctor. Where's Digweed?"

"I'll find him," Lillian volunteered. "Should he take a horse into town?"

"My confidence in his riding abilities are not as sure as his driving abilities," Loveday said, coaxing a painful chuckle from Robin. "Let him take the carriage. Your cousin will want to go with him anyway."

"Very good." Lillian turned on her heel and left.

"Loveday, what can I do?" Maria had been standing long enough.

"We need to move him to a bed. Do you think we can carry him?"

"I walked all the way here," Robin protested, "I'm not _completely_ disabled."

"You be quiet and mind the doctor." Loveday patted his cheek as one would an endearing toddler. She looked up at Maria. "If we get on either side of him, I think we can make it to the guest bedroom."

"All right." Maria stepped to the other side of him.

"Now put your arms over our shoulders," Loveday instructed, "And we'll help you stand."

"I'm not a baby," he complained. Loveday glared at him. "All right, all right." He slung his good arm over Maria, and together they hoisted him up. For several painstaking minutes, they made their way down the hall to the guest bedroom next to Lillian's. At last, they laid him down gently on the bed and lifted his legs up, his boots soiling the sheets. Robin let out a shaky breath, head sinking into the down feather pillows. Loveday stroked his disheveled curls with sisterly tenderness.

"Are you hungry?"

"Starved," he groaned. "And cold. Lillian took my coat."

"Well, we had to look at your wound, didn't we? I'll find you some food," Loveday promised. "Maria, there should be more blankets in the cedar chest over there." She glided out of the room.

Maria retrieved several warm quilts from the chest. Her heart was pounding as she neared his bedside. They were going to have a conversation. It was unavoidable. Squaring her shoulders, she braced herself for the worst.

A/N: Dear readers,

I'm thrilled to be able to update so quickly! Thank you for your reviews, most recently from Immergladsss; you cannot know how encouraging your words are! I love hearing what you as the reader think. It really does improve my writing. Thank you.

Love always,

Ponygirl7


	38. Regaining Balance

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"Thanks," Robin muttered as Maria draped the blankets over him.

"Shall I take off your boots?" she asked.

"No, I can—"

"No, don't try— _ROBIN_!" The force of her voice pushed him back against the pillows. He looked up at her, blinking. She took a shaky breath. "If you lean forward like that, it could cause more bleeding. Just stay still, and I shall remove your boots." She did so, placing his boots carefully on the floor. After looking at them blankly a moment, she lifted her gaze to meet his. "I didn't mean to shout," she said, which was as close to an apology as she would yield at the moment.

He grunted in reply. This lack of response sparked Maria's animosity.

"I needn't guess why you're in the same clothes as you were last night," she began to pace the room, anxious to channel her nervous energy. "They're drenched, too. It's a wonder you didn't die of the cold."

"Look at me, I'm a living miracle," he mumbled drily.

"Didn't you hear me? You could've _died_." She turned on her heel to face him, eyes burning. "Do you know how idiotic that was?"

"I felt as though I'd already died," he murmured. She stared at him as he continued quietly, "Didn't seem like I had much to live for." His statement crashed down on her like a tidal wave. Maria tried not to sway on her feet. Her jaw dropped involuntarily. A moment of silence passed. Then,

"How inconsiderate of you!"

" _Inconsiderate_? Of me? How—"

"People care for you, you bloody oaf!" She began to pace again. "It's not your own life, don't you know that? You can't just decide you don't want to live it anymore, and—"

"Oh, who'd mourn for me? My father? The man who only recently seemed to notice that he actually had a son?"

"How can you even talk like that? Why do you need a list of people who would mourn your death? Why does your stupid pride govern every aspect of your life?" She paused and turned to look him dead in the eye. "Tell me, do I need to lock you in your own dungeons to keep you from doing yourself harm? Are you going to slit your throat with that dagger? Do I need to start disarming you? Did you truly stagger off into that snow intending to die?" Her eyes burned fiercely, and pools began to form in them. Robin's gut wrenched.

"No—no." He sighed. "I don't intend to take my life. I—I didn't mean for you to think—"

"Here's your food," Loveday swept into the room, placing a tray on Robin's stomach. "It smelled like Marmaduke had made some bread, but I couldn't find any. I suppose the biscuits will have to do. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, thanks. I appreciate it." Loveday nodded.

"All right. Oh, good, Maria, you found the blankets. Well, Robin, if there's anything you need, you can ask Maria or have her come get me. The doctor will be here in a little while. But if you start feeling worse, do have Maria retrieve me." She cocked her head sympathetically. "I am sorry, darling. And almost Christmas, too." She left the room, shaking her head.

Robin sighed. The tray on his stomach rose and fell. His eye fell on the biscuits. Bread. Cranberry bread. He remembered. He looked up at Maria, who was busily swatting at her eyes.

"You made the bread? For Marmaduke and Lillian and my father?"

"This morning." She nodded, straightening her shoulders. "I told you I was going to."

"I'm sure they'll like it," he said cautiously.

"I'm sure they will." She replied. Her throat hurt. There was a hot, heavy weight in it. She sat down in a chair that faced the foot of the bed. She crossed her legs and leaned back. Robin studied her.

"Don't you want to know why we fought?"

"Who?"

"Ambrose and me."

"No."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't, Robin." Her voice bore an edge.

"Well then, you don't," he said, "But I'm going to tell you anyway."

"Please don't."

"He insulted me."

"Robin—"

"But that's not what made me throw a punch. He taunted me. He said he danced a lot with you last night."

"He did."

"I know," Robin looked down. "I know. And I can handle the truth. But I can't stand lies. And then he said you kissed him, and that's when—"

"He said _WHAT_?" Maria uncrossed her legs, bolting forward suddenly.

"I knew he was lying," Robin said, inwardly relieved. "And I knew you wouldn't want him saying that." Maria closed her eyes, leaning back.

"No. No, I wouldn't. But you didn't have to _punch_ him, Robin—"

"Princess, I did." His words tugged at her heartstrings, but she kept her eyes closed as he went on, "You should've seen him, all smug cockiness—"

"You are always smug and cocky," she reminded him.

"But not like this," Robin explained, frustrated. "He looked so pleased with himself—and yes, I know I'm usually pleased with myself, but he took such pleasure in making you seem like a—like a—I don't know. He made you out to be easy, simple, ordinary." She opened her eyes.

"And I'm not ordinary?"

"Anything but."

"Well," she said slowly, "I believe you did what you thought was right." She stood. "And I thank you for defending my reputation." He shut his eyes angrily.

"You're so—so composed." She frowned. He opened his eyes, and in them she saw pain. "You thank me for what I did, but you disregard me. What about me? What about us?"

"What about us?" she echoed hollowly. They looked at each other, willing the other to speak. Maria dropped her gaze. "I think it was stupid."

"What was?"

"Our argument. Last night."

"I agree."

"But we haven't resolved it."

"What do you mean?"

"You were jealous," Maria crossed her arms over her chest. "You thought it was your right to dictate to me who I could and couldn't dance with."

"Yes."

"Yes, what? Yes, you remember, or yes, you still agree with what you said yesterday?"

"Yes—no—I mean, I—" he broke off. He took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be jealous. But you've got to understand—"

"What? What do I have to understand?" Maria was getting aggravated.

"Maria, please. Let me explain." He watched her, and she didn't explode. He took this as a good sign. "I know Ambrose. I knew him before you did. I know what he's like. He is charming with women, but you should hear how he talks when he is only with men. He is…he is ambitious. He is a coward, but he is ambitious. He wants to flirt his way to the top. And he could do it, too." Robin gritted his teeth. "I didn't want you to have to find out the hard way. He's just in it for the money. I mean, it doesn't hurt that you're really pretty and smart and—no, but he wants to live in luxury. But he'll never be content, I know it. If he married you, he'd take the money and leave and Maria, I didn't want to see you hurt."

Maria absorbed this. She frowned.

"Why didn't you tell me this last night?" Robin blinked.

"I tried." Maria eyed him.

"Hm. What you said was different from what I heard." Her frown deepened. "But I suppose that is true of most conversations."

They were teetering on the edge of something, and they both felt it.

Then they spoke at the same time:

"I'm sorry."

Robin chuckled. Maria smiled. Maria's smile was the sun breaking through all of Robin's gloom. They beamed at each other for a moment.

"You know, we'd argue a great deal if we courted," Robin said, a shadow crossing his face.

"What do you mean, if?" Her eyes danced.

"You know, we're going to argue a great deal since we're courting." Robin said, his grin spreading.

"Yes," Maria said, nearing his bedside with a smile, "but we'll also kiss a great deal too, and I think it'll all balance out very nicely."

A/N: Beloved readers,

Thanks for reading! Writing this chapter brought me great satisfaction. Consider it my Easter gift to you. Please share your thoughts with me in your reviews!

Love,

Ponygirl7 :)


	39. A Bit of Fresh Air & Fury

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"Robin, Maria, the doctor is here! Right this way, sir," Loveday's bright voice echoed down the corridor. Maria took the seat beside Robin's bed at the sound of Loveday's voice. A portly middle aged man followed Loveday into Robin's chambers. He was about what one would expect from a small town doctor. Lillian, Digweed, and Miss Heliotrope trailed in behind him, faces flushed from their hurry. Maria stood in surprise, trying to ignore the unpleasant stench of sweat. One more warm body in the room and they could sufficiently qualify as a furnace. Maria glanced quickly at Robin, who winked. She smiled in gratitude and made her way out of the small, clammy room.

Maria's absent walking led her to the front entryway. She picked up Robin's coat, tossed over the back of a chair near the fire. It had dried now. She slipped it on, glorying in the warmth from the fire. Her fingers, sliding into the pockets, touched something cold and hard. She frowned. Her hand surfaced with a brooch. The brooch Maria had intended to give to Miss Heliotrope. Her frown cleared as she admired the tiny amethyst jewels. She held it up to the window, letting the light glint off it. Then a dark black form appeared in the corner of her view. She glanced up, squinting in the bright whiteness reflected by the snow. Wrolf bounded toward her, followed by a horse. Worry flickered across Maria's face. There had been two horses. She pulled on some boots sitting nearby and dashed out the door.

"Wrolf!" she caught him just as he leapt up on her. "Good boy, yes. But where is…" she nodded to Uncle Benjamin, who trotted up alongside her. "Yes?"

"We caught him—it wasn't very difficult," Uncle Benjamin allowed a smile, "and Coeur De Noir has taken him back to his village."

"What for?"

"I…trial, perhaps? I'm not sure."

"May I go?"

"To the De Noir Village? Well…how's Robin?"

"All right. The doctor is here now. Please, Uncle."

"Don't you think we ought to allow Coeur De Noir to deal with this?"

"I won't interfere, most likely."

"Most likely." He repeated drily. He scanned the perimeter of the yard as though it would yield a decision. Finally his gaze came to rest back on Maria. "All right. But be wise. And don't stay too long."

"Of course." She beamed up at him. He sighed and dismounted, patting the horse's neck. "He hasn't worked hard today. He's been wanting a good run."

"I'll let him," she grinned, adding after a look from her uncle, "only when the trail is sure."

"I'd hate to have him step false and hurt himself."

"Yes, Uncle. We'll be safe." She was already mounting.

"Are you warm enough?"

"Yes; I didn't think Robin would need his coat anytime soon. I'll be back before sundown, I promise." She shortened the stirrups.

"Very well. I'll come and get you if there's any change." Maria frowned questioningly. "In his condition. Robin's." Sir Benjamin clarified. She nodded, taking up the reins.

"All right." Her heels nudged her mount's sides, and they took off across the snowy white grounds. She alternated trotting and cantering when the trail looked all right. Most of the snow was still packed down.

As she approached the long straightaway through the woods, she clucked gently and nudged. The horse needed little encouragement, and he lengthened his stride into a gallop. The cold wind stung Maria's face, but it woke her up, too. Suddenly she felt very alive, invigorated. When at last she had to pull him down to a trot, they were both breathing hard, clouds of warm air floating up from their mouths. Finally they made their way up to the De Noir Village, passing through the gates. Maria dismounted and tied her horse up at the hitching post, where a young groom attended to him.

"Thank you," Maria said, "tell me, do you know—"

"Blimey, you're Maria!" The little boy peered up at her. "They're in the dungeons, I think. I heard what happened to Robin. Sorry. Say, did you really jump off a cliff?"

"Uh, thank you. Yes, I did." She turned to go, but he kept talking.

"Was it fun? I always wanted to fly. But I guess hitting the water wouldn't be fun. Or would it? Was it?"

"It was—um, well, I thought I'd die, you see."

"So then…it wasn't fun?"

"No, not really."

"I'm jealous of Robin."

"Beg your pardon, what?"

"I'm jealous. If you were younger, I'd get you, you see. But you're older, so he got you."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"To marry!"

"Robin and I aren't married."

"Oh. Well, but you will. It's ineni—inevin—inveti—"

"Inevitable?"

"Yes, that's it."

"Well, I wouldn't say it's inevitable, but…but jealousy really isn't good, ah—what's your name?"

"Theodore De Noir. My dad was killed by a bear, I think. Some people call me Dora for short, 'cept that's my mom's name." Maria processed this.

"I see. Well, I'll call you Theodore. Theodore, jealousy really can't do anything good. It can only make you hate someone or something, and hate's not good, is it? And anyway, you wouldn't want to marry me, even if you were my age. You see, I'm terribly stubborn and I can be very irritable. No, I think you'll find a very nice girl your age to marry. Don't worry too much about it; you can't change anything by worrying. Isn't that right?"

"I guess."

"All right then. I'm off to the dungeons. Goodbye!"

"Bye!"

Maria walked briskly away. While Theodore was a cute child, she had more pressing matters to deal with. As she descended into the dungeons, flashbacks of her last time here assaulted her. She and Robin had been at odds. She'd been taunted, tossed into a cell. She shivered.

Voices echoed. She recognized Coeur De Noir's deep bark. Taking a deep breath, she plunged ahead into the darkness. She remembered what Robin had said. Ambrose was a cowardly, ambitious charmer. He had doubtless broken many hearts in this village. She quickened her angry pace. She would make Ambrose sorry he'd ever hurt a woman.

For as we all know, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

A/N: Dear readers,

Happy Easter! I'm reveling in a little spare time. This chapter was kind of an in-between, but it seemed necessary. What do you think of Theo? If you've read my other fanfics 'A Breach of Etiquette' and/or 'Building a Life', you'll recognize Theodore's parentage. Opinions on him, anyone? Do you enjoy little kids, or should we pull a Jane Austen and boot out most of the preteens? (No offense to Austen, I adore her.) Shoutout to Immergladsss for being so prompt and sweet in your reviewing! Ok, yes, yes, I'll wrap it up. Thanks for your time and reviews, you kindhearted gentlefolk!

Blessings,

Ponygirl7


	40. Lady Justice

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria marched into a large underground room crowded with men in black. Torches cast an orange glow while the few high windows gave a portal to the outside. The men were shouting at someone in front. But upon noticing Maria, a hush spread. They glanced back at the newcomer and, upon recognizing her, grudgingly cleared a path. She stepped deftly through. When she reached the front, she found Coeur De Noir, who had paused in speaking, standing atop what looked like a dais of bones. Behind him was Ambrose, sitting in a small dark cell.

"Ah, Maria," Coeur De Noir said, attempting a grim smile. "How is he?"

"Robin will live," Maria announced, staring daggers at Ambrose. He did not return her gaze. She looked back at Coeur De Noir. "May I enquire as to what the current proceedings are here?" Murmurs echoed off the hewn rock walls. Maria caught the phrase 'no place for a lady', but she kept her eyes fixed steadily on Coeur De Noir.

"We are dealing with the matter accordingly," he said, shifting his weight. A dull white rib cracked under his boot. She lifted an eyebrow, waiting for elaboration. He obliged. "We have always operated on the principle, 'an eye for an eye'." Maria frowned. Suddenly her seething rage toward Ambrose ebbed a bit out of concern.

"Am I to understand that you intend to stab Ambrose?" She looked around at the men. A wave of remarks crashed over her:

"—how it's always been done—"

"—supposed to just stand around like fools—"

"—discourages further disobedience—"

"—Robin's our _mate_ , girl!"

She held up a hand to silence them and was inwardly pleased with the quick efficiency of this movement.

"I know you have little contact with the outside world apart from trading," she began, "but this sort of punishment would hardly be tolerated. In fact, you yourselves could easily be sentenced to prison, and I have no wish for that." Her words left an abrupt silence. Either the men were in agreement (doubtful) or were too shocked by the audacity of this girl to summon words (more likely). Whatever the case, Maria seized the opportunity. She began to pace, thinking. "Usually, Ambrose would be entitled to a trial. I doubt that'll ever come to pass, and I assume he has already confessed to the crime—" she looked at Coeur De Noir, who nodded in confirmation, "and so he is found to be guilty. The method of punishment, however, cannot include stabbing." She addressed the assembly now. "It is not sensible. He did not murder Robin, thank goodness; otherwise, that'd be a different case entirely. You have options, of course." She began to pace again. "You could sentence him to a period of years in here. Or you could bind him to a trade; make him work. I would discourage any lashings or stabbings."

"What does she mean, make him work?" a voice mumbled. But the room's acoustics magnified his query. Maria lifted her chin.

"He is not a productive member of your village if he merely sits day after day in a cell," she pointed out, "and then, when he is released, you have a full-time working citizen. I doubt you'd want him brandishing a knife or arrows going out hunting. He must stay in the village, and he may as well learn a trade." She cleared her throat. "But I digress. Coeur De Noir, you are in charge. I only offer my opinion, and—"

"She doesn't want him hurt, I see now," a man scoffed from the back, "she is trying to protect him." Maria steeled her gaze and turned back to the men.

"I doubt any of you in this room, Robin's father excepted, wants revenge more than I do," she fought to keep her voice even, "but someone must be the voice of reason. It is neither wise nor ethical to stab your prisoner, and I hope your leader will see that." She looked to Coeur De Noir, whose bushy eyebrows were wriggling like conflicted caterpillars. All eyes turned to him. He took a deep breath.

"Until recently, Moonacre dealings have been conducted in a very straightforward but also very severe way." He looked upward as though for inspiration. "We have great pride in our traditions." The men muttered in agreement. "But it is this pride which almost cost us our lives." He looked out over them. "We have long depended on bloodshed, that of our enemies, and that of our own." He gestured to Ambrose, who still would not raise his head. "Our power has rested on fear." A skull fractured under his feet. He looked at Maria, who gave him an encouraging nod. "I believe it is time to establish a new order, one not only of justice, but of mercy." A great stir erupted from the assembly.

"Listen to me," Coeur De Noir thundered. They quieted somewhat. "Last night, we attended a gathering at Moonacre Manor. Previously, we had only visited that place to kill its inhabitants. The valley is changing. The Merryweather family and ours are on good terms now. I have restored a relationship with my son, whom all of you call brother. It is just and right to punish crimes. But let us do so in a way that becomes our new nature. I leave it to you: would you still stab Ambrose and plunge us back into our darkened mindset, or will you lead us forward into this new age?" His challenge hung in the air.

Maria almost smiled. She could see why Coeur De Noir was their leader. But the choice now belonged to the men. She waited.

"I suppose—as long as he works," a voice consented.

"But he stays in the dungeons."

"For now, at least."

"And we serve him my wife's cooking."

"Naw, Jack, that's too cruel."

They began quarreling, but the decision was made. Maria looked over to Coeur De Noir, who was chuckling now. He descended from his platform and walked to her.

"I'm glad you came," he admitted. "Stabbing him did sound good at first—"

"Revenge always does," Maria sighed.

"But I wasn't so sure. They were about ready to overthrow me and go kill him themselves when you showed up."

"I think you would've handled it."

"Well…it's over now." His eyes twinkled. "Nice coat."

"Thank you. I didn't think he'd need it. We put him in one of the guest rooms. The doctor was there when I left, and it seemed there were enough people in the room."

"Ah. Say, Maria," he said tentatively, "Robin didn't come home last night…"

"He slept in the woods," Maria filled in quickly.

"Oh?" The caterpillar eyebrows lifted. Suddenly Maria felt warm.

"We had a disagreement last night. It…we didn't resolve it. I think he may have…um…"

"De Noirs are quick to use the drink as a crutch," Coeur De Noir supplied. "I know it all too well." He frowned for a moment. "Well, I appreciate your telling me. Are you…that is, did he…"

"We resolved the argument," Maria smiled, feeling the ghost of Robin's kiss on her lips. "All is well. Aside from, of course, the dagger wound."

"Yes. Good. Ah—not the wound, of course—but, well…I do think you are good for him, Maria," Coeur De Noir said sincerely, "For all of us." She blushed.

"Thank you. I am very glad to be here in Moonacre." Her gaze traveled up to the high windows. "Oh! It's snowing!" She gasped. "I need to return home! Do excuse me, but I must go."

"Yes, of course. Make haste." Coeur De Noir watched the wisp of a girl dash away, smiling after her. What an improvement to Moonacre she was. He chuckled, shaking his head. She'd be a fine improvement to the De Noir family, too. Maria was a remarkable girl. A scowl crossed his face. Robin had better not mess this up.

A/N: My dear readers,

Thank you for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I am thrilled to get it to you so soon after the previous update! Moonacre really was a rotten old pigsty before Maria arrived, and she has a knack for turning things on their heads. Thank you for continuing to share your thoughts with me (*smiles and waves with great appreciative vigor at WhenPigsFly2018 for your thoughtful review!*)!

Yours,

Ponygirl7


	41. Blindly Through Whiteness

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria dashed to the stables, thick flurries assaulting her face. But she could see through the veil of snow that Uncle's horse was not tied where she'd left him. She dashed inside the barn.

"Theodore? Theodore, where's my horse? Theodore?" she shouted.

"Maria? Is that you?" A young voice sounded from the hayloft.

"Yes Theodore, where's my—oh, I've found him. But—why'd you untack him?" She whirled on the boy who was wriggling down a ladder, golden hay in his hair.

"I thought you'd be a while," he explained. "How'd it go? What happened? Did you see—"

"Theodore, I'm in a bit of a rush. Help me?"

"Help you what?"

"Tack him up! I need to get back to the manor."

"Oh." Theodore paused. He watched Maria run back and forth from the tack room.

"Come along! Isn't this your job?"

"Yes," now he began to move, "but when it started snowing, I took him in and untacked him. I thought for sure you'd be longer. But I guess not. Cleaned out his hooves, though."

"I'm grateful," she said, hefting the saddle up onto the horse's back.

"Say, maybe you oughta stay here. It's going to be hard riding. The visil—the vilib—the—what's it called when you're seeing stuff?" Maria frowned as she cinched up the girth.

"Visibility?"

"Yes, that's it. The visibility is going to be _horrendous_." He grinned confidentially. "That's a new word a learned from Jackie, Mom's friend."

"Well, the visibility will be bad. But I've got to get back. Grab the bridle for me, will you?"

"You could just stay here."

"Get the bridle, please."

"Yes, but—"

"Theodore!"

"Right." He trudged back to the tack room, emerging again with his mouth going at the rate of a locomotive. "Why do you have to get back? Do you not like it here? I thought you liked me. And Coeur De Noir." He handed her the bridle.

"Of course I do—thanks—but I must get home. I have to see how Robin is faring. Come on, now, I know the bit's cold." This last part was muttered to her horse, who refused to allow her to shove that cold metal bit into his mouth. "Open your mouth—there you are. Good boy."

"Maria!" A much deeper voice than Theodore's caught her attention. Coeur De Noir jogged in, out of breath. "I didn't realize how much it was snowing. Why don't you stay here? I'd be more than happy—"

"Thank you, sir, but I really must go," she led her mount out of his stall. "I promised Uncle I'd be home before sundown."

"He wouldn't want you risking your life—"

"I'm not risking my life; I'm on a horse. His horse. He's trustworthy." She stroked his velvety nose. "We'll make it through all right. And I need to check on Robin." She frowned at a sudden thought.

"Did you leave Ambrose down there without a guard? Didn't all the other men leave?" Coeur De Noir shrugged.

"He didn't seem very inclined to move when I left. Motionless. Can't figure that one out. Don't want to."

Maria wanted to tell Coeur De Noir to leave her and return to the prisoner immediately, that Ambrose was indeed ambitious and seemingly clever, but this was Coeur De Noir's village and he was in charge. So she nodded.

"Very good then. Should Robin—should he take a turn for the worse, we'll send for you. But I think he'll be all right. He must be all right."

"Very good. Safe travels."

"Thank you." Maria led her steed outside, mounted up, and trotted away. On the hill exiting the village, she had to slow to a walk. Since the previous snow had been packed down and hardened, it now served as an icy sheet hidden deceptively by the incoming blanket. Maria tightened her grip on the reins, fingers red and chapped.

"Easy. Good." This was not good. This was not the rate at which she had intended to travel. Unfortunately, little Theodore had been right; the visibility was limited. Maria was familiar with the woods, but she couldn't navigate them blindfolded. If this were Robin, it would be a different case. But regrettably, Robin was not with her. She burrowed her nose down into his coat. A fierce gust of wind clawed at any exposed skin.

Horses hate wind. Everything is moving strangely, causing distractions, and their riders' words are swept up and away by the squall before they reach the horses' ears. Uncle's horse was no different. He jigged nervously. Maria had to make a conscious effort to relax her body, urging him forward with her legs. She couldn't use verbal commands; even if she shouted, she wasn't sure he'd hear. Still, she murmured,

"Good, good. Easy. Take it easy." She wasn't sure if she was talking to the horse or herself. The snowstorm was picking up. Maria gritted her chattering teeth. They'd never make it home at this rate. Well, they were on flat ground now. Could she risk a trot? The horse certainly wanted to let loose. He danced in place, ears pinned unhappily. Maria let out a whoosh of air inside her coat. "We've got to try."

She made inaudible clucks and nudged her mount forward into a trot. The good news: he got the message without her verbal cues. The bad news: he only understood the 'go faster' part. 'Just trot' was a missed memo. He broke out into a wild canter.

Maria was caught off guard. She leaned forward, trying to see through the snow that was coming down so heavily. But she couldn't. She pulled back on the reins. He begged for more. She wrestled with him. Then she saw a dark shape flying towards her. Before she could react, it hit her in the face. She was knocked back. She tumbled off the horse's rump, landing in the snow.

Maria lay still for a moment, gathering her wits. It was a branch. Thank goodness her feet had come out of the stirrups. Better to be knocked off than dragged behind. She sat up groggily. But…where was her horse? She called, but her words were snatched up in the howling wind. Ugh. Her neck was sore, and her face was scratched. Not very bloody, thankfully. But the wind sought out every flaw and seemed to target it. Her face burned of cold.

Lovely. Well, her horse would make it home safely. She had confidence in his abilities. She was not so sure of herself, however. Was she near Loveday's grotto? Honestly, she had no idea. Was she closer to the De Noir village or to her own home? Everything was blown out of perspective. Oh, what she wouldn't give to have Robin at her side! Or to be at Robin's side, safe and sound in the manor, for that matter. Well, she had to start walking. If she stayed in one place, she'd freeze.

And so she walked. At first she tried to follow the hoof prints back to the De Noir village, but they soon became covered over. So she plowed ahead in that general direction. Her toes were growing numb, and her nose was cherry red. Her cheeks were bruised, her neck was stiff, and her courage was dwindling.

Then she saw a figure stumbling toward her in the snow. She blinked, eyes strained. What? No. But the closer it came, the more confused she was. Could it be…

"Robin?"

A/N: Beloved reader,

Thanks for continuing with me! Sorry to leave you at such a critical moment, but it really is best, trust me. Tell me, can you predict what is going to happen next? Your reviews are appreciated.

Love you all!

Ponygirl7


	42. Cowardice in the Cold

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"Maria?" the black form shouted through the wind.

"Robin! How did you—" Maria froze in her tracks when she got close enough to see. She tensed. "Ambrose, how did you get out?"

"I am smart, you know."

Her cheeks almost grew hot, were it not for the raging blizzard.

"Then you ought to be smart enough to stay away from me, especially after what you did to Robin—"

"Listen, I'm sorry about that." He shifted in the snow. The charming, easy façade he had worn last night was gone. In its place was a frightened young man.

"Oh, indeed?" She could hardly believe his audacity.

"I am, I—I didn't mean to hurt him."

"I suppose you didn't mean to hurt him when you threw the _dagger_ at him?"

"I panicked."

"You could've _KILLED_ him. How could you—"

"Where's your horse?"

"What?" She could barely hear. Her senses seemed numbed by the cold.

"WHERE'S YOUR HORSE?"

"Gone, hopefully back to the manor. But now I've got to take you back to the De Noir village."

"No thanks."

"I'll stop you right there, sir—" she gasped sharply as she turned her neck. Pain flared.

"You're hurt?"

"No."

"You're hurt. I wasn't really asking. What happened?"

"Oh, never mind what happened. Let's just go back to the village."

They stood motionless for a moment. In that brief period, Ambrose was able to divine a crucial piece of information.

"You don't know where you are, do you?" Maria opened her mouth to reply, but he quickly added, "I know you don't, don't bother answering."

"Well, I suppose you can leave, then," Maria said. "But of course then you'll be guilty of murder." This drew him up short.

"What?"

"I don't know where I am. I'm likely to die. What if they assume you killed me? By now, they know you've escaped. Come back to the De Noir village with me, and you may even be rewarded. Leave me, and you'll be chased. And once they find you—for they _will_ find you—they'll have reason to execute you."

Ambrose squinted in the piercing wind. Perhaps he was trying to tell whether or not Maria was bluffing. But at this point, her features were so hardened by the cold that she might have been a porcelain doll, and dolls do not give up secrets. Eventually his cowardly nature won.

"Very well. But we're closer to your home." He peered at her. "You really don't know where we are, do you?"

"We've already established that fact."

"Right. Well…follow me." He began walking slowly. Maria couldn't tell if he was doing this for his sake or her own. At any rate, she accepted it. Still, she was wary. It was still possible for Ambrose to turn on her. Perhaps he planned on killing her somewhere they wouldn't find her body quickly. She shuddered at the thought. Or perhaps she was shuddering from the cold. She fixed her eyes on Ambrose's dark figure before her. If she had something on which to focus, it would give her reason to keep moving forward. The blizzard was unrelenting. Maria hoped dearly that her horse had returned home by now. The snow was climbing higher and higher around her legs. If Ambrose hadn't been moving in front of her, it would have been twice as difficult to forge a path.

Presently, Maria saw the forest begin to fade behind them. They reached the outer fringes of the woods, and Moonacre Manor cut a welcome, albeit blurry figure in their path. She breathed a frosty sigh of relief. Ambrose hadn't tried to kill her. Still, she felt nearly dead herself. Her legs did not feel as though they belonged to her anymore, such an effort it took to lift them. Whether or not she had toes, she didn't know anymore. All feeling was lost. The same applied to her fingers, though she tried to bury them in Robin's pockets. Her cheeks were blistering cold, and her lips were chapped. She was so focused on moving forward that she didn't realize her leader had stopped.

"Oh!" She bumped into him, staggering back. He turned. Her muscles, sore as they were, hurt when she tensed.

"Listen."

"I'm listening," she said impatiently.

"I—I appreciate what you did."

"What?" Her teeth chattered.

"They would've stabbed me. I probably would've died." He squirmed.

"You probably would've deserved it," she muttered bitterly under her breath. He leaned forward, but she backed up.

"What?"

"Nothing. I want Moonacre Valley to be a place of justice and peace. That is why I said what I did."

"Right." He stood uncomfortably still. "Right." Maria looked at him as though he'd gone mad. Here they were, standing in the freezing elements, when they were so close to a warm, comfortable shelter!

"Right," she said, "let's go on in, then."

"Wait! I mean, are you sure they won't…" he trailed off.

"Won't what?"

"I don't know." His cowardly expression looked foolish. Maria wondered how she had once thought him handsome. Nevertheless, she obliged some relief.

"At the moment, they'll be glad you brought me back in one piece. Don't worry."

"All right." The creases in his brow cleared. He stood awkwardly a moment longer, then turned and resumed plodding forward. After what seemed like a frigid eternity, they reached the entrance. When Ambrose hesitated before the door, Maria stepped in front of him, rolling her eyes. Seizing the handle in her aching, clumsy hand, she fumbled to open it. At last, it swung open.

"I'm home!"

A/N: My dear reader,

Thanks for continuing with me on this long journey! Let's hear a round of applause for Immergladsss' correction prediction of Ambrose's appearance here. I absolutely love reading your reviews, and I encourage you now to not only review my stories, but to also

Read other Moonacre fanfics, there are some lovely ones out there; most recently _A Reason to Stay_ by Donutbird! And

Write! Even if it's a super short one-shot, you can make a compilation of them and publish them! Or go ahead and start that Moonacre novel you've been considering. We'll all read it and comment on it and send hearts and you'll smile. I promise.

Anyway, thanks for reading this. Bye for now!

Ponygirl7 :)


	43. A Breach of Etiquette

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Wrolf was the first to notice Maria's arrival. Rising from his place by the hearth, he leapt up into Maria's arms.

"Oh! Wrolf, no. Down. Yes, I love you. No, I'm cold." She waddled quickly to the fire.

"Uh…Maria?" Ambrose squeaked. Maria turned, aggravated. Then her lips quirked up in a smile. Wrolf had cornered Ambrose, growling low.

"Wrolf, it's okay. Let him be." Wrolf seemed hesitant, but he backed off and allowed Ambrose to join Maria to thaw by the fire.

"I heard voices—oh! Maria! Thank—" Sir Benjamin froze upon seeing Ambrose.

"Uncle, Ambrose helped me home. He is a guest here—"

"Maria, we locked him up at the De Noir—"

"I know, I was there," Maria snapped. Her frame relaxed. "I'm sorry. I'm very cold."

"Of course you are." Sir Benjamin helped her into a chair by the fireplace. He turned to glare at Ambrose. "You, sit." Ambrose sat. "Loveday? Darling, come down." Sir Benjamin kept his eyes on Ambrose until Loveday entered.

"Maria? Oh, my darling, are you all right? We were so—who is this?"

"Loveday, this is Ambrose, and he led me home. I was lost." Maria didn't feel much like talking, but she knew she had to explain things. "I was riding, but we were going too fast, and I couldn't see well because of the snow. I—I didn't see a low branch. Thankfully my feet slid out of the stirrups, so I wasn't dragged. Did—"

"Your horse arrived home, don't worry," Sir Benjamin said. "We knew something was wrong."

"Good, I'm glad. At any rate, I didn't know where I was, and I ran into Ambrose here, who had escaped from the De Noir dungeons. And he was kind enough to help me home." She paused before adding, "I could've died." Ambrose sought her gaze gratefully, but she didn't meet his. Though she knew it was right to show him kindness, she would rather at the moment exact revenge for what he did to Robin than be merciful.

"Well, I thank you for assisting my niece," Uncle Benjamin managed. "But I'm afraid we'll have to tie you up until—"

"Uncle," Maria broke in wearily, "he won't go anywhere. Especially not in this blizzard." Sir Benjamin took a long look out the window. Finally he sighed.

"Very well. But you will remain with me at all times. If you so much as duck out of my eyesight—"

"I get it, I understand," Ambrose held up his hands. "I'll be a good boy."

"Now that that's settled," Maria rose shakily, "how's Robin?"

"As well as can be expected," Loveday replied, "and the doctor left a little while ago. Digweed and Miss Heliotrope drove him back to town. I do hope they reached town safely. But you can see him now, if you wish. Lillian is with him now." Maria rose.

"I shall." She hobbled down the hallway, feet still half frozen. When she entered the guest room, Lillian bolted up from her chair.

"Dear, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Here, have a seat." Lillian guided Maria into the chair by the head of the bed. "You had us all very worried. Is everything all right with—at the De Noir village?"

"Yes, or as well as can be expected."

"Good, I'm glad. Can I get you anything?"

"Perhaps some hot cocoa?" Lillian left quickly on her mission. Maria sighed deeply.

"Don't do that," Robin said quietly.

"What?"

"Don't make me worry about you."

"Well, now you know how it feels," Maria cracked a smile. "You're still injured. Loveday said you're doing well?"

"I am," he confirmed. "What happened to you? Your horse came home without you."

"I hit a low branch. It was snowing so hard, I couldn't see."

"Where did it happen? I'll cut down the branch once I'm able."

"I don't know where it was."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know."

"Then how did you—"

"Let me explain," Maria interrupted him. She curled her feet up underneath her. "But you cannot get angry."

"Why—"

"Just don't. Because otherwise, I'll get angry too. Please listen." And she told him of the events at De Noir village and during the snowstorm. When she finished, Robin's mouth was set in a thin line.

"You mean the little rat is sitting right down the hall?"

"Robin, he helped me. I very easily could have died."

"But of all people, why did he—"

"Robin, please don't make this worse for me." She stood and began to pace. "Believe me, I don't like him any more than you do." Robin scoffed. Maria frowned. "It's true! Let's just forget about him, can't we? He'll serve his sentence." She neared his bedside to look him steadily in the eye. "We won't have to see him again unless we want to."

"It's awfully hard to forget about the guy who stabbed you."

"Well, I'll help you forget," Maria dropped a kiss on his lips. "Now do scoot over. I'm cold." He obliged, and she climbed in beside him. She let out a little sigh, ruffling his neck feathers. "I hope Miss Heliotrope and Digweed are all right. They drove the doctor back to town. Do you think they'll stay there?"

"Digweed has good sense. They'll be fine."

"I hope she won't worry about their reputation."

"What do you mean?" He asked. Maria propped her head up with her arm so she could look at Robin.

"She was already worried about the stir marrying him would cause. She's an educated gentlewoman. He's a servant. It doesn't…it doesn't look good."

"I don't understand."

"Me neither. But that is the way of the world. And she loves him enough—well, it's worth the risk, you see."

"I see." He twisted a finger around her unruly copper curls. She smiled.

"But if Miss Heliotrope and Digweed have to stay the night in town—even you must understand the problem there. Of course they will be married, but they are not wed yet."

"Outside the bounds of propriety, hm?" He twirled her hair.

"Precisely."

"And I don't suppose our current situation is breaking any of those rules of etiquette?" He grinned. She closed her eyes and leaned back into her pillow.

"Oh, we're probably breaking a thousand. But at the moment, I couldn't care in the slightest." Robin chuckled.

"When have you ever broken rules? I must be having a negative effect on you." She opened her eyes and slid them lazily over to meet his.

"Probably. Well, I'll just leave then." She did not move. "I'm walking away." A yawn escaped her little mouth. "Right now." She closed her eyes and snuggled closer to him. Yes, this was good. And she was tired.

Lillian walked in a few minutes later with the hot cocoa. Her eyes softened at the sweet sight. Then, quietly, she set the cocoa down on the table and slipped out unnoticed.

A/N: Dear readers,

Thank you for reading this! Thank you also for your patience. You are sweet and kind and funny and I am thankful today for you :) Also, please review!

Cheers!

Ponygirl7


	44. Gradual Reparations

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"Maria? Maria, wake up, it's supper time."

Maria rolled over—and out of the bed.

"Oh!"

"All right?" Robin chuckled, leaning over the edge.

"Fine, thank you very much." She staggered to her feet, trying to regain whatever composure she could muster. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, but supper's ready. Marmaduke just popped in to tell us." Maria yawned. Robin grinned a little. Maria frowned.

"What are you doing? Don't just sit there looking at me."

"Why not?" A smile played around his lips.

"I—it's unseemly," she stretched sleepily, still waking up, "What is—oh. Do you want your coat back?"

"Keep it for now. You look good it in."

"Hm. Do I really?" She sashayed dramatically across the room.

"No," he answered. She paused mid-step to give him a glare.

"Oh, come now, you always look good."

"It probably looks better on you. It barely fits me."

"Well, everything looks good on me." He crossed his arms.

"Oh ho, a bit full of ourselves, are we?" She linked an arm around his bedpost and swung back to face him. "In that case, I suppose you won't need this." She took his bowler hat and plopped it down on her curls.

"Hey!"

"Now then, didn't you say Marmaduke was waiting for us? Come on, Robin, stop being so rude." She clucked her tongue. "We mustn't keep everyone from their dinner." Robin rolled his eyes and swung his feet out of bed.

"And to think that you'd stoop so low as to steal a hat from an injured man." He shook his head in mock disapproval. Maria stuck her hands in the coat's pockets, not pitying him in the least. Finally she asked,

"How does your shoulder feel?"

"Hurts." He grunted as he stood.

"Any better?"

"Some."

"Hm. Well, don't keep chatting my ear off," Maria lifted her chin, "We're going to be late for supper."

"Right." When he didn't follow her to the door, she turned.

"Do you need help walking?"

"No."

"Well then?"

"I just…" he faltered. She raised an eyebrow. "I just didn't have a strong desire to see Ambrose any time soon. And he's in the dining room."

"Oh." Maria frowned. Then she strode up to him and kissed his nose. "You'll be fine. I'll sit next to you." She had almost made it to the door before she turned again to face him, shoulders squared. "But you don't need me; you're Robin De Noir! You're not afraid of anything. He should be the uncomfortable one. And I have a feeling he's even more nervous about dinner than you."

"He'd better be," Robin grumbled.

"He is," she insisted, "And as my benediction, I offer you this token of good fortune." She placed the bowler hat on his head.

"How generous," he chuckled, feeling its familiar crown, "You have given me my own hat."

"I'll choose to ignore your snide remarks and escort you to the dining room now, sir."

When they reached the dining room, everyone, including the ladies, stood at their arrival. Sir Benjamin was quick to pull out a seat for Robin, while Loveday secured the other for Maria. While Sir Benjamin headed the table, Loveday, Maria, and Robin lined one side and Lillian and Ambrose sat at the other. After everyone had been seated and the prayer was said, Marmaduke zipped around, dishing out the first course.

"I trust you slept well?" Sir Benjamin asked.

"Yes, thank you, Uncle," Maria replied. "No news of Miss Heliotrope or Digweed?"

"No." Sir Benjamin answered. Loveday added,

"We believe they stayed in town. Neither of them are risk-takers, you know."

"Ah yes, that Miss Heliotrope," Robin noted soberly, "Terribly unpredictable. A bold path-forger, that one. Wild as an untamed—"

"Robin," Maria cut in quietly.

"Sorry." He ducked his head, diverting his attentions to the creamy potato soup.

"Thank goodness, the snow has stopped," Lillian said tranquilly.

"Yes," Sir Benjamin agreed, "But it's past sundown. I can't take Ambrose back to the De Noir Village tonight." His words were clipped.

"Of course, there are rooms in the manor," Loveday said coolly to Ambrose. "You will not be without a bed in this house." Ambrose blinked several times, never looking up.

"Thank you."

Maria had to admit, Loveday was being remarkably gracious, granting a bed to the boy who'd just stabbed her brother. She admired Loveday's kindness, for it could not be easy. Maria knew that people often mistook kindness for weakness or gullibility. However, it is the kindest people who are the strongest. It takes a great deal of strength to be kind, especially to those who do not deserve it. Maria pondered this over the next several courses, during which the dinner party spoke little and when they did, the topic was of little consequence.

Finally, Sir Benjamin pushed back his dessert plate in languid contentment.

"Delicious, Marmaduke. Really well done."

"Why, I thank you most kindly, Sir Benjamin. It brings me the utmost pleasure to know that my creations have been enjoyed and appreciated to the fullest, as is their due reward. Or might I say," his eyes twinkled, "their just _desserts_." A collective groan rose up from the table.

"I think it's time I got some sleep," Lillian stood, "And now seems as good a time as any. Good night, all." She nodded warmly to those seated, then swept out of the room, patting both Maria and Robin on the back as she left.

"I think I'll turn in too," Loveday said, rising from her place. "Benjamin, Ambrose will have the second guest bedroom."

"Yes, darling. I'll settle everything." He stood, kissed her, smiled a secret smile, and let her depart. "Now then." His featured hardened as he forced himself to look at Ambrose. "Let's get you to your room."

"Yes, sir."

"Wait—Uncle? May we speak privately with Ambrose? Just for a minute while you get the keys to the second guest bedroom." Sir Benjamin hesitated, but some confidence in Maria's posture must have convinced him.

"Very well." He left the three alone. Ambrose dared to look up. Maria could see his hands trembling, and she almost pitied him.

"I believe you would like to say something to Robin?" She prompted. She felt very much like a schoolmarm scolding two little boys who got into a tussle at recess. Ambrose's eyes flitted from Maria to Robin, the latter sitting still as a statue.

"Sorry," came the mumble from Ambrose's lips.

"I beg your pardon?" Maria prodded.

"I'm sorry." Ambrose muttered a little more coherently.

"Well, you've got to apologize to Maria too," Robin said, "You didn't talk about her with respect this morning."

"All right, I'm sorry." Ambrose expelled it all in one breath. He then pressed his lips together as though to keep an insect from escaping.

"Thank you," Maria said. "And—I forgive you." Ambrose's brow crinkled in confusion. Maria glanced at Robin, but he did not seem so willing to forgive Ambrose. Well, she couldn't blame him. Then Robin broke the silence.

"Thank you for getting Maria back safely." He grinned. "I know you didn't have much choice; she's clever that way. But still, you got her here." Ambrose nodded in response.

"She's clever, yes."

Sir Benjamin abruptly returned with the keys.

"Ready?" They all stood. Ambrose trailed after Sir Benjamin, leaving Maria and Robin in the dining room.

"Thank you for being…well, thank you." Maria bowed her head. "I know it isn't easy."

"The right thing is hardly every easy," Robin shrugged, then winced. "Ah, remind me not to shrug. Doesn't agree with my shoulder." Maria almost laughed.

"I'm sorry. Get some more rest. Tomorrow we've got to prepare for the wedding on Sunday."

"Right." He glanced around before swooping down and kissing her. She was caught off guard but didn't resist. Finally he pulled back, peace alighting on his tired features.

"Sweet dreams, Princess."

A/N: My dear reader,

Thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Reviews appreciated!

Love always,

Ponygirl7


	45. A Good Knight

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

A fierce gust rattled the windowpanes. Miss Heliotrope sucked in a breath.

"That'll be the wind, then," Digweed muttered, "It's getting late. I suppose we'd better get a room." They had taken refuge in a small bed and breakfast in town and were now huddled around the fire in the living room. Miss Heliotrope glanced around. There were several other people sitting casually in the room. She pulled her hood closer around her.

"But—but what _will_ people think?" She trembled.

"They'll think we're smart for not going out in a storm," he reassured her, taking her hand. She withdrew her hand from his grasp, hoping no one saw. Digweed swallowed and sat back.

"They'll talk," Miss Heliotrope hissed under her breath, "I know they will."

"It don't matter, anyway," he said, "we're engaged. And we're…we're respectable. Honorable."

"Yes, but that doesn't make a difference! If word gets around that we shared a room—even if we didn't share a bed—I'll never be able to set foot in this town again." Her lips quivered.

"People forget things."

"Jane, what would you rather do? Sleep out in the cold?"

"No, no. Oh, but there must be some other option. There always is." She stared into the fire for inspiration. "Perhaps we could get two rooms." Digweed flushed.

"That costs an awful lot." Servants' salaries were not exactly ideal. Not that Sir Benjamin was cheap, but Digweed was by no means a millionaire. And he'd been saving up to get Miss Heliotrope a nice wedding gift.

"I have a little money with me," she said, feeling for her purse.

"Enough for one room?"

"Perhaps."

"How about this," he leaned forward. "You take the room. I'll get a place in the barn. It'll be sort of warm in there, and I can keep an eye on the horses—"

"You will not sleep in the barn!" Miss Heliotrope said, perhaps a little louder than she would have liked. She quieted her voice. "I won't have it. No future husband of mine will sleep with the animals." She took a deep breath. "We'll get one room."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It'll be fine. It'll be—it'll be fine. I'll be fine." Her breaths came in short pants. Digweed looked worriedly at her.

"We can—"

"No, let's get the room. Before I change my mind." They rose quickly and bustled over to the front desk. A fat middle-aged woman with altogether too much lace on looked up. First, however, her gaze strayed toward the left hands of her new guests. No ring. She smacked her lips and smiled at them.

"And how may I help you today?"

Miss Heliotrope's clammy hand found Digweed's sweaty palm and gave it a squeeze.

"We would like a room." Digweed squared his shoulders. Miss Heliotrope felt the heavy gaze of the woman pounding down. The woman raised an eyebrow. A corner of her lips quirked up. This would make a fine story, she was probably thinking.

"A room—for each of us," Miss Heliotrope added breathlessly. The woman's smirk dropped into a disappointed line. Digweed's attempt at a confident façade crumbled. He watched as Miss Heliotrope brought forth her purse to pay for her own room. Dazed but undaunted, Digweed quickly pulled out his own purse and took care of the cost of both rooms, ignoring Miss Heliotrope's protests.

They followed the woman as she waddled up the stairs and showed them to their respective rooms, which, oddly enough, were at opposite ends of the hall. Somehow, Digweed doubted that all the rooms were filled. The woman seemed to sense his thoughts.

"We try to put our guests as far away from each other as possible to maintain privacy and peace. You won't be able to hear a thing, I promise." She smiled widely, dropped a key into his hand, and began the journey back downstairs. Digweed scowled, taking a look at the frilly room she'd given him. It was fancy, yes. Overpriced, yes. For the only bed and breakfast in town, it could afford to be. He sighed. Pocketing his key, he took a stroll down the hall and knocked on Miss Heliotrope's door.

A disheveled young man popped his head out from behind the door.

"Uh, what?"

"Oh! So sorry sir, wrong door," Digweed apologized, bowing. Then he realized he needn't bow; he wasn't a servant here. The man eyed him, then shut the door. Digweed tried the next door. To his relief, Miss Heliotrope's face appeared when it opened.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't—I just couldn't—that woman made me—"

"It's all right," Digweed hushed her, "It's all right." She bit her lip. He smiled. "You know, I'd been saving my money for a present for you. For our wedding."

"You were?"

"Well, I'd been saving it for my wife. Until recently, I didn't know it was going to be you." He looked down. "I hoped, of course, but I never thought that you…" he took her hand, studying it as though it were a precious artifact. "Anyway, I guess you won't mind, then? If I don't give you a wedding present? I'll give you one, someday. It'll be a little while, but if I work very hard I will—"

Miss Heliotrope silenced him with a kiss, throwing propriety to the wind (but inwardly praying the woman didn't come upstairs again). Thankfully, the woman didn't. When Miss Heliotrope stepped back, she whispered,

"You have given me my wedding present."

"I have?"

"You emptied your purse to save my honor." She studied him, a smile smoothing the worried wrinkles of her face. "You are my knight in shining armor." Digweed's brow lifted in surprise, but a twinkle began in his eyes.

"If that be the case, then," he took a comically elaborate yet endearing bow, "I bid my fair princess good night."

"Good night, Digweed."

"Good night, Jane."

He made his way back to his room. But now he didn't seem to mind the frills. He puffed out his chest. This room was his badge of honor. With these lacy doilies, he was knighted a guardian of Miss Heliotrope's integrity. He couldn't keep from smiling.

There was peace on earth, after all.

A/N: My lovely reader,

Hi! Thank you so much for continuing on this journey with me. I appreciate your reviews. Also, what are you curious about? Is there anything about the characters you would like to know? Or have you other ideas for new stories? Do let me know in your reviews :)

At any rate, I'll bid you good day. Happy reading!

Ponygirl7


	46. Entirely Disgruntled

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"Rise and shine. Merry Christmas Eve. Get out of bed." Sir Benjamin flung the curtains open, crisp morning light spilling over Ambrose's peacefully sleeping features.

"Unggh—what? What's happening? Where—"

"I'm taking you back to the De Noir village. We'll ride. You're not going to try to run for it."

"Yes—er, no. Right."

After a muffin or two of Marmaduke's, the two men mounted their horses. The snow was deep, but it was packed tightly. As long as they didn't rush matters, they would arrive in the De Noir village safe and sound.

The silence was uncomfortable. Sir Benjamin was disgruntled at having to leave his family and home bright and early the morning before Christmas. He was still angry with Ambrose for stabbing Robin. He did not approve of Ambrose's character. The only reason Sir Benjamin gave Ambrose a bed last night was for Maria's sake. Ambrose had admittedly saved Maria, and try as he might, Sir Benjamin could not deny that.

Ambrose was anxious. What if the villagers changed their minds and intended to stab him as soon as he returned? If Sir Benjamin didn't tell them of Ambrose's heroic acts yesterday, they might think he tried to escape and Sir Benjamin caught him. Not that they would be entirely wrong, but…oh, he wished Maria were here! She'd at least stick up for him, odd though it was. Really, Ambrose couldn't figure her out. She was an awfully pretty bird, and smart too. But Ambrose had stabbed her beau, Robin. By all accounts, Maria should have _wanted_ the villagers to stab Ambrose. But she didn't. She _defended_ him. Curious girl, that one. A shame it didn't work out between her and himself. Finally, Ambrose's anxiety got the better of his attempt at an unworried façade.

"What will happen to me?"

Sir Benjamin looked over at him. Now Ambrose understood the expression 'steely gaze'.

"You will be locked up." Ambrose's heart sank. "In a room." Room, he'd said. Not prison cell. "Until Christmas is over. Now is not the time for such dealings." Ambrose could have squealed with joy. Instead, he allowed himself a satisfied smirk. Now he could only keep his fingers crossed for a pretty serving maid.

They reached the De Noir village without incident, stabled their horses with an enthusiastic boy who seemed overly curious about what it felt like to stab someone. It seemed Ambrose's crime was no secret in the small village. Sir Benjamin escorted Ambrose down to the Great Hall, where they were met in a corner by Coeur De Noir and several armed men.

"Merry Christmas Eve," Coeur De Noir greeted them somberly. Ambrose avoided meeting his eyes, glancing instead to those eating at the long table. They seemed quite jolly, though they no doubt knew of his crime. Well, at least some people could be happy. He pursed his lips. Not a bad looking servant girl, either. Fair hair, rosebud lips…what was her name? He tried to recall. Lucy? Lavender? Something with an 'L'.

"Over here, Liz," one older woman called, holding a plate. The blonde rushed over. Ah, that was it. Liz. He'd probably flirted with her too, once upon a time.

"…trust that's all right with you, eh, Ambrose?" Coeur De Noir finished. Ambrose looked back, eyebrows up.

"Hm? Yes. Right. Very good." Hopefully he hadn't been agreeing that his life was worthless and deserved a quick and painless end. Thankfully, Sir Benjamin seemed happy. On second thought, that could go either way. Ambrose held his breath.

"It's settled then. Apprenticed to the carpenter after the holidays. Until then, you'll be kept under lock and key." Coeur De Noir passed said key to one of the armed men. "They'll take you now." As Ambrose was ushered away, he caught Coeur De Noir saying something about going to check on Robin. Bloody Robin. Stabbed once, and he gets all the attention, Ambrose thought bitterly. He tried to catch the eye of pretty Liz as he walked by, but then one of the guards shoved him forward. Sighing, he turned his attention away from the girl.

Ambrose was led up one of the spiraling staircases to a little room into which he was shoved. The door was promptly locked behind him.

"You'll get fed at some point," a guard told him through the door. "Make yourself at home." Ambrose listened as their footfalls got softer and softer until they vanished. Then he turned to observe his small circular room. It was better than a prison cell, he supposed. But… _still_.

There were no windows exactly, but a circular hole at the top of the very high ceiling allowed a wide shaft of light. However, it also allowed a chilly draft. And snow too, apparently. A thick bucket was placed on the floor directly underneath the skylight, full of almost melted snow. _Almost_ melted, he noted. It seemed this room wouldn't be getting much warmer. Furniture was spare. Another thick bucket was turned upside down and could be used as a stool.

A wooden bedframe was pushed on its side. How generous of Coeur De Noir. But he couldn't have been bothered for a mattress or blankets or pillows? Really now, what kind of a leader was he? Ambrose sobered. He knew he ought to be grateful for this treatment. But after the luxurious manor room he'd spent last night in, these next nights would seem hellish. He carefully pulled the bedframe down to its proper state. Unfortunately, it took up a good deal of the space. He just barely avoided knocking over the snow-filled bucket. Angry but a little relived, Ambrose slumped down on the bed. Then sat up. This was an uncomfortable bed.

He looked up at the skylight, momentarily considering trying to climb up to it. But no. It was too high. The walls were too smooth. And anyway, it was pointless to escape. It would only bring him harm. He let out an undignified moan of distress. A handsome lad like him didn't belong in here. Just one mistake, and they lock you up! It was Christmas Eve. He should be spending the day with jolly rich girls, not alone in a drafty room. Argh. Well, maybe the serving maid would be good-looking. There was hope yet.

A/N: My dear reader,

Thank you for reading this chapter! Always a pleasure to write for you darlings. I'm finding myself with a little more time, so theoretically our present saga will reach its gripping conclusion soon. Theoretically. You writers out there are nodding along sarcastically: "Sure, honey. Right. You keep thinking that." Thanks, I will :)

Anyway, I appreciate your dedication to this story. I'm enjoying it, and I hope you are too. Let me know in your reviews. Also, I'm welcoming new fanfiction ideas! Just something to think about.

Love you all!

Ponygirl7


	47. The Anonymous Rebuke

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Footfalls made Ambrose leap to his feet. It'd been several hours. He'd begun to wonder if they'd forgotten about him. They would find his cold, lifeless remains sometime ages and ages hence, and then, ah, then they would remember poor, misunderstood Ambrose.

But no matter now. Someone was coming. He hoped it wasn't the guards. Anyway, he wouldn't see until they came in. Regrettably, there was no peephole in this door.

The feet stopped. Ambrose carefully fixed his face in a careless smirk, awaiting the squeak of the hinges. Instead, he heard a grating sound. Then he saw a tray had been pushed under the door. A tray of food. The footsteps started again, but they were going away.

"No, wait!" he rushed to the door. Silence. Had the servant paused? "I need—I want to talk to someone." He listened intently. Nothing. "Please, I'm dreadfully bored." The feet started again, but to his dismay, they weren't getting closer. "Come, now! Wait, come back! Well, will you at least bring me a blanket? Or a pillow? Why are you—argh." He could no longer hear the footsteps. Ah, what pitiful pastimes he had been reduced to, that a footfall would make his heart leap with joy. He cursed.

Nevertheless, they hadn't skimped on the food. It was the same quality he'd eaten every day for the past seventeen years of his life. Even in the darkest of times at Moonacre, the cuisine had never failed to impress. He ate quickly, and when he had finished, he bemoaned his haste. He ought to have saved some. Who knew when he would be fed next? Perhaps he would only get one meal a day. Unfortunately, they hadn't given him anything to drink, and he _was_ thirsty. He cursed again.

Standing, he paced the small room irritably until finally he kicked the center bucket. Then howled in dismay. That was one sturdy bucket. Falling to the floor, he clutched his toe. He cursed the bucket. Why did it have to be so heavy? Well, it _was_ full of water…

Oh, no.

If they expected him to _drink_ from that thing…

But they hadn't given him a cup. What else could he do? And he was thirsty. Reluctantly, he neared the edge of the bucket. It didn't look too dirty. He crinkled his nose in disgust. He should be drinking wine and eggnog. Not this foul snow-water. Summoning whatever courage was in his being (not much), he lapped a little from the bucket. He found the water to be cold and refreshing. Great. He sighed. His standards were lowering already.

Hours passed. He watched the shaft of light fade until it was nothing more than a whisper of moonlight. Ambrose's stomach curled up inside of him. He wished he'd saved some of his midday meal. It seemed they weren't planning on giving him supper.

Not only was he starving, he was bored. Excruciatingly bored. Ambrose was not a hard-working lad, unless he had to pretend in order to gain a young lady's admiration. Even then, he put in minimal effort, relying on his good looks and gallant manner. He could even be downright lazy. But he never liked being bored. What a fine way to spend Christmas Eve. Not that it wasn't his fault that he ended up in here, exactly, but still.

The groaning of the stairs roused him from his thoughts of self-pity. Then he heard footsteps. At this point, Ambrose was too weary to pretend to be enjoying himself in here. But he was anxious for someone to talk to, something to do. He saw a light. They had a candle.

"Are you bringing me food?" The only response was the sliding of another tray under the door. "Don't you want the other tray?" Silence. "Otherwise, I'll just end up with a collection of trays in here. I might even be able to escape with them." He waited.

"Slide it under, then." A woman's voice. Young lady? Did he recognize it? He couldn't tell. He'd known too many women.

"Why don't you come in here and get it?"

"I'm not stupid." Her voice was indignant.

"I never said you were."

"Slide it under."

"No, I want to see you."

"Well, I don't want to see you."

"Why not?" Silence fell. Then:

"Do you really expect me to answer that?"

"Oh, come now, so I stabbed a guy. He's not dead. Plus, women like a bad boy. A rogue, if you will. I—"

"You stabbed Robin De Noir!" Accusingly.

"Yes…oh. Do you want to know why?"

"Silly boy, I know why."

"Do you now?" He began to pace the little room again.

"I told you. I'm not stupid."

"Well then, you must know that he was attacking me. I had no choice—"

"Liar."

"What?" He froze.

"You're lying. You were never in danger of your life." She chuckled. "Maybe just your ego. Robin would never kill you."

"Ah, well…" he didn't know how to respond. But he didn't want her to walk away. He neared the door. "Why do you think I stabbed him then?"

"Oh, I don't doubt that you two were fighting. Over Maria, I wager."

"And why do you think that?"

"I saw you at the ball. It was hard not to."

"So I danced with her. So what?"

"So, Robin and Maria had a falling out. About you. I don't know the details, but they were both pretty angry with each other. Maria was just using you to make Robin jealous."

"Oh, I don't think Maria was _using_ me." If anything, it'd been the other way around. He leaned a shoulder on the door. "And anyway, how do you know so much?"

"I'm a woman." He raised a questioning eyebrow, then remembered she couldn't see him.

"So?"

"So, woman's intuition rarely fails. Robin danced with me after his fight with Maria. You and I, we're two sides of the same coin. But I at least had the decency to respect him. I've known—I know he loves Maria. I wasn't going to fight Maria for him. That's not—it's not right." He smiled slyly.

"But I think you like Robin."

"Of course I like him. Who doesn't? Yourself excluded."

"That's not what I mean. Are you jealous of Maria?" He waited for her to reply.

"I am, yes." She paused. "But that doesn't mean I'll act on my jealousy. It's not the first disappointing love I've had, thanks much." Was she…had Ambrose and this girl been in a relationship once? He couldn't tell, because of this confounded door. Odds were, they had been. She went on, "I pride myself on having a little dignity. I like to think that I love Robin enough to want him to be happy. So you see, I'm not going to snatch Robin away from Maria." Ambrose didn't know what to say. Thankfully, she kept speaking. "At least if I had, I would be acting out of love. I doubt your motives were the same." She scoffed. "Maria's rich. Money. It's what you're always after, isn't it?" The bitterness laced in her words was inescapable.

"Well—but I—let me explain!" But her shoes were already taking her away. He racked his brain desperately for something to keep her talking to him. "Didn't you hear how I saved Maria?"

"Oh, very heroic." The girl's voice echoed in the stairwell. Then he could hear her no longer. He knocked his head into the door angrily, then squeaked. That was a hard door. The girl's words echoed in his mind. He was always after the money. Well, it was true. He could hardly deny it. Was that such a bad thing? To want the best things in life? Really now, who could call that a crime?

A/N: Cherished reader,

Hi! I'm happy to have gotten this chapter ready so quickly! Hopefully this trend will continue…keep your fingers crossed! What do you think of Ambrose? I'm curious. How do you see him? Are his motives worthy [in any way, shape, or form]? Does he have any redeeming values? What do you think of the servant girl? You can probably guess who she is. Do tell me your thoughts in your reviews :)

Love,

Ponygirl7


	48. Decisions, Decisions

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Thus far, dear reader, you have heard only of Ambrose's Christmas Eve. Rest assured, I have no intention of depriving you of the rest of that day's events. So close your eyes—then open them, for you must of course keep reading—and rewind. We open on Maria sleeping soundly.

"Maria?" Loveday's gentle voice stirred Maria's consciousness. "Darling, it's time to wake up. Merry Christmas Eve!"

Maria's eyes flew open.

"It's Christmas Eve?" She whispered. She sat straight up. "It's Christmas Eve!" Heedless of balance, she tumbled out of bed, landing on an unusually furry rug. "Oh! Wrolf!" She rolled off him. "No, I'm all right," she bounced up breathlessly, waving off Loveday's attempts to help. "Merry Christmas Eve, Loveday! And Wrolf, of course," she dashed her hands quickly through his tousled black mane.

"How late is it? Did I sleep in? I didn't mean to. Oh, I've so much to do! Have—"

"Easy there, Princess," Robin leaned against the doorway, looking annoyingly dashing in his crisp black bowler hat.

"Robin!" Maria blinked. "When did you—oh, nevermind. Is everyone up but me? I didn't mean to make you wait to eat breakfast, I just kept sleeping—"

"It's not late," Loveday said soothingly, "it's seven in the morning. We haven't eaten yet. I just came to help you figure out your Christmas wardrobe. I don't know what Robin is here." She looked at him questioningly. He shrugged.

"Just wanted to say good morning, is all. Hey, is that a deer out there?" Loveday rushed to the window to see. Quickly, Robin snaked an arm around Maria and pressed his lips into hers in a kiss sweet as a peppermint drop, then stepped away, folding his arms on his chest. Maria's cheeks flushed rosy.

"I don't see any deer," Loveday turned away, disappointed.

"Maybe it was just a shadow on the snow," Robin suggested. "Anyway, I'll leave you two ladies to your dresses." He winked before sauntering down the stairs. Maria shook her head, smiling after him. She then turned her attention to the selection of dresses Loveday had brought in.

"I have two choices for this evening—Christmas Eve meal is always a grand spectacle in Moonacre!—and then we have two for your Sunday church outfit for tomorrow, and of course several for you to choose from for Miss Heliotrope's wedding." Maria's eyes absorbed the richness of the dresses.

"Loveday…" she could hardly find words to express herself. "How…how do you do it?"

"Most of the materials are recycled," Loveday explained, "And dresses really aren't that hard to make. Some of them were mine from when I was your age; I just had to alter them a bit. Now then, what do you think? Tonight we've got a marvelous feast planned here. Which would you prefer: rich burgundy with lace, or a deep green with gold brocade?" Loveday held the latter against herself, striking a pose. Maria grinned.

"I think I like the green best."

"Very good. Decisive. Moving on, we have your choices for church tomorrow: snowy fur-trimmed modesty or navy silk?" She ran a hand over the navy dress. "This one makes me think of the starry night on which Jesus was born."

"Hm. You're right…but it's probably best to err on the side of modesty for church," her fingers trailed over the fur, "and I won't get to wear white later, because it'll be Miss Heliotrope's wedding. Let's save the navy for another day."

"I like the way you think. You're so good for Robin. And then finally, these are the choices for Miss Heliotrope's wedding." Maria looked down at hearing this casually worded yet meaningful remark. It was good to know she had Loveday's full approval where Robin was concerned. She turned her attention to the dresses. A powder blue with contrasting orange taffeta, white satin with purple ribbon trims, and a peach blush lace sprawled across the bed. Maria immediately had a favorite.

"This blushing one is like a splash of springtime." She held it up against her. "What do you think?"

"We'll add some pearl earrings and you'll be radiant," Loveday promised. "Good, I'm glad that's settled. You can change into some house clothes until this evening." She gathered up the declined dresses in her arms. "We'll probably eat breakfast soon." After helping Loveday out, Maria selected a simple blue-gray woolen dress and muslin apron in which to work. She had to wrap presents and apparently prepare for the feast.

Maria skipped down the stairs and joined Sir Benjamin, Loveday, Robin, and Lillian for breakfast. Miss Heliotrope's place was empty, and Lillian's face was slightly pale. Maria was anxious. Now she knew how it felt to wait for someone, not knowing if they were safe or half frozen. Poor Lillian had been invited for a nice, relaxing stay. Instead, it seemed that she was waiting every other day for someone to return home from the perilous snowstorms, and now it was Lillian's cousin in danger. So Maria tried to be chipper; someone had to.

"I'm sure Miss Heliotrope and Digweed spent the night in town," she said, "they're the most sensible people I know. And Digweed has an eye for the weather, I think." Lillian made murmurs of agreement. Loveday caught on.

"Absolutely, Maria," she agreed, "And we all know that Miss Heliotrope is the least likely person in the world to take such a chance."

"Or any chance," Robin added helpfully. Maria shot him a look. He shrugged. "It's true." Well, now Maria had to change the subject, lest Robin inadvertently insult anyone anymore. "Uncle, you look refreshed. Were you out for a morning ride?"

"I delivered Ambrose back to the village," he replied.

"Oh." She'd almost forgotten about Ambrose. It'd been a pleasant experience. "Thank you for all your help, Uncle. Robin, how is your shoulder feeling?"

"All right, thanks." His eyes twinkled. "I bet I could still beat you in a snowball fight." Maria's eyes lit up—then she remembered her responsibilities.

"Tell you what: if you help me with wrapping presents and cleaning for the feast tonight, I might have time to beat you—er, accept your challenge." He pushed back his plate and licked his lips.

"You have yourself a deal."

Maria beamed.

Meanwhile, in town, Miss Heliotrope and Digweed had emerged from their respective rooms, eaten a quick breakfast, and mounted the coach.

"I never want to see that insolent woman's face again," Miss Heliotrope shuddered, drawing her coat closer around her shivering frame.

"You know," Digweed slid an arm around her, "I think we ought to go back there for our honeymoon. Rub it in her nose, don't you see." Miss Heliotrope turned to look at him.

" _That's_ rather insolent, too," she said. Then, in the harsh morning light, she kissed him. "Let's do it."

A/N: Cherished reader,

Thanks for keeping up! Sorry, I know this chapter didn't have you on the edge of your seat. As for those of you impatient readers out there, we ARE getting closer to wrapping it up, I promise. What are your thoughts, regarding future fanfic works, on reading a screenplay? The idea popped into my head as I considered _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. Tell me what you think. Also, if you have time and are bored of reading my writing, check out elking7541's _Return to Moonacre 2: Runaways_! It's an unfinished but developing story, well written and impressively in character. Thanks, and happy reading!

Your

Ponygirl7


	49. What Comes of Being Smug

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Maria and Robin skipped nimbly up the staircase and ducked through the dwarf-sized door into her room.

"Where shall I put the paper?" Robin asked, bouncing around the rolls of it in his arms.

"On the bed is fine," Maria tossed the ribbons she was carrying on her pillow. "Now," she knelt and reached under her bed, surfacing again with a large box, "here are the gifts. Mostly cranberry bread, but I've also got Loveday's baby blanket and the money for Digweed and Miss Heliotrope's honeymoon." She opened the box. Robin sniffed the air, eyes gleaming with interest. Before he could reach out, Maria shut the box quickly, an amused warning in her smile. "And since you didn't help with baking the bread, you don't get any of it." He rolled his eyes, but sat back nonetheless. She opened the box again.

"Now then, if you want to cut the wrapping paper—oh, I didn't bring shears! Would you want to run down and grab some?" Robin rummaged around in his boot, emerging with a dagger. Maria gasped.

"Is that—"

"I kept it," Robin held it up to the light. "I didn't think Ambrose would need it much for whatever he's doing. Anyway, he sort of gave it to me." Maria sighed.

"I guess it's better in your hands than in his." There was a meditative silence. Then she brightened. "In any case, you can use that to cut the wrapping paper. Then I'll wrap these, string them up with ribbon, and write who it's for."

They worked out an efficient system, and soon the gifts were all packaged up prettily. Maria and Robin gathered them up to take downstairs and place under the tree in the music room. As they descended the stairs, Maria began to feel a little guilty for not having a gift for Robin. She cast a sidelong glance in his direction, but he didn't seem troubled. Good.

Music floated out from the piano room, no doubt Lillian. Maria's guess was confirmed, although she hadn't expected to see Coeur De Noir standing beside her. Maria checked Robin's expression, but he betrayed nothing. Neither Lillian nor her one-man-audience noticed the new arrivals. So Maria and Robin set their gifts under the tree, looked once more at the peaceful scene, and tip-toed back out.

Once they were safely out of earshot, Maria turned to Robin and let loose a little squeal. He crinkled his nose.

"What was that for?" Maria bounced on her toes.

"Your father and Lillian. They seem serious."

"My father's always serious."

"Yes, but not like this. I really think—I predict they'll get married." Robin shrugged.

"I won't bet against it."

"Oh, how can you be so calm and indifferent?"

"Years of practice."

"Robinnn," she grumbled, continuing to walk down the hallway, "you're being no fun."

"I'll tell you what will be fun," he bumped his shoulder into hers in casual camaraderie, "is a snowball fight. We've done the presents. The house looks ready for whatever feast you're having tonight. Don't you think it's time we got outside?" Maria grinned fondly up at him.

"Can't bear to be inside, can you?"

"It's what comes of living outside your whole life."

"You have a lovely little village."

"Yes, but if your father is an angry, controlling tyrant bent on destroying an entire family, you're less likely to want to spend time around him." Robin uttered this all in an impossibly light-hearted tone, but Maria knew his life had not been easy. Nevertheless, she would not let negative thoughts depress her on Christmas Eve. So she said,

"It's good to see him change. I imagine Lillian will do him no harm."

"No, indeed," Robin chuckled, "she'll make him soft. I'm more worried about him becoming a teddy bear unfit for leading his clan."

"I wouldn't worry about that. Lillian is a dreamy lady, but she has good sense. She is Miss Heliotrope's cousin, after all, and Miss Heliotrope is as sensible as they come, don't you think?"

"Mm, no comment."

"Robin!"

"Only joking. Now, you go find your coat and I'll meet you outside in approximately forty-five seconds."

In approximately forty-five seconds, give or take a minute, Maria stepped out the front door and was nearly blinded by the brilliant sunlight glaring off the snow.

She would later claim that it was this state of near-blindness which rendered her incapable of seeing the snowball that hit her squarely in the face.

Her muffled cry of "ROBIN!" was reduced to a wet, angry-sounding squawk. She wiped the snow off her face and ducked down. She would find him and pelt him with snowballs when he least expected it. The only problem was…how?

Her eyes adjusted to the light, and suddenly she was glad she'd worn her white fur coat. She could more easily camouflage with the snow than Robin could with his heavy black coat. She would have to pretend that she'd planned this. But now she had to determine his whereabouts. She'd been caught off guard by the first snowball that she hadn't had time to tell from whence it had come. So now she would have to get hit again.

Maria knelt like a sprinter, fixed her eyes on a large tree, and bolted toward it. Another snowball came from nowhere and splashed against her face. And this time, though she'd been prepared, she still couldn't tell where its thrower was. She stood pressed against the tree, skimming the terrain for a dark figure. He _had_ to be here somewhere. She reached down and readied a snowball of her own. Yet as she did so, she felt a series of small, cold assaults pitter-pattering on her head. She grimaced. Wait, on her head? Was Robin…? She smiled to herself. She should've known.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes upward until her gaze caught on a black form standing above her in the limbs of the tree. And she was greeted with another slosh of snow in her face.

"Why, you little—"

"We never specified any rules about not climbing trees," he shrugged. "But I tell you what: I'll stay in this tree. Catch me if you can."

"What do you mean, _if_ I can?"

"Have you ever climbed a tree before, Princess?"

"I don't suppose it can be very hard." Robin chuckled.

"Your first time climbing a tree. I'm so proud."

"Proud's not the only thing you'll be feeling when I get through with you," she muttered menacingly. He would feel the wrath of the Moon Princess. He would feel the crush of a thousand snowballs against his face. He—oh, why couldn't she reach that branch? Hopping was undignified, but Maria had no choice. She was a petite girl. After several failed attempts, she managed to grab hold of the branch and dedicated whatever upper body strength she had to her efforts.

When at last she straddled the lowest limb of the tree, she looked up victoriously at him. She was greeted with another snowball to the face. Undeterred, she began to climb. She realized halfway up the tree that a dress was not best suited for such rigorous activities. But there was no turning back now.

Robin was perched in the topmost branch. In a way, this was good; he could not climb down without encountering her. However, this also meant that she had to climb to the topmost branch. But Maria was nothing if not determined. She hoisted herself up, branch by branch, hair snagging on various twigs.

At last, she was only one branch below him. She squinted up at him. He grinned smugly back at her. She reached behind her and ran a hand along the top of her branch, gathering snow. He did not see. After packing it firmly in her hands, she lifted her gaze from his taunting eyes, tensed, and threw her snowball.

It knocked the bowler hat clean off Robin's head. Maria watched it fall to the ground, then looked up at him in triumph.

"Checkmate." She smirked. He exhaled in aggravation, issuing a puff of air from his mouth.

"All right. That was good, I'll grant you. And look, you're up in a tree!"

"I just hope Miss Heliotrope doesn't see me. She'd probably faint." Maria looked down at the ground below. She was awfully high up. Then a rattling sound reached her ears.

"Speak of the devil and she shall appear," Robin whistled in wonder. "There's your tutor now." Maria saw the coach approaching.

"Robin! Don't move. Be quiet. Maybe they won't see us." They froze in place until at last Miss Heliotrope and Digweed were safely inside. Maria let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, and just so you know, I'm choosing to forget that you called her a devil. Especially since her wedding is tomorrow." Robin spread his hands: an impressive if not idiotic feat when one is very high up in a tree.

"It's a figure of speech. And are you sure she doesn't have horns?"

"Robin…"

"All right, all right." He climbed down to Maria's branch. "I won't say anything cross." Maria smiled sweetly.

"Very good."

"And, in reward for your success in climbing this tree…" Robin leaned forward to kiss Maria. He was greeted by a large, wet mush of snow.

"That's for being a smug little fiend," she said. She wiped the snow off his face and, as he sputtered, pressed her lips against his, tasting the cold sweetness of winter. "And that was because I wanted to."

A/N: My dear reader,

Thank you for reading this chapter! It was quite fun to write. I'd like to personally thank guest reader Lilianna, who read this entire story recently and reviewed every single chapter. My dear, you made my day! And to my other readers, thank you so much for your continued support! As this story winds down, do you all have any ideas for future Moonacre stories? If so, do please let me know.

Love,

Ponygirl7


	50. Attention to Detail

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Robin followed Maria into Moonacre Manor, grudgingly leaving the glistening white outdoors. Almost immediately, they stumbled upon a crush of people in the front room. It seemed everyone had come to welcome Miss Heliotrope and Digweed back again. Robin glanced hopefully at Maria. She raised her eyebrows. This could be good. Perhaps no one would notice their wet, bedraggled state…

"Maria!" Miss Heliotrope's shrill voice cut the air. "Come by the fire quickly, child. What is this, how did your hair get wet?"

"Welcome back, Miss Heliotrope," Maria grinned, ducking through the others to greet her tutor. "We were worried about you in the snow last night."

"Well, you need not have worried about us," Miss Heliotrope smoothed her dress. "Digweed and I had the good sense to stay in town. But you, how did you come to be so wet? Your hair is positively soaked! And—"

"I tripped and fell in the snow," Maria lied. She knew that Miss Heliotrope would have a fit if she learned of Maria's tree climbing and snowball fights. Miss Heliotrope frowned disapprovingly, as though Maria should've known better than to trip and fall. She squinted through her spectacles at Maria a moment, then diverted her attentions to Robin, whom she knew without a doubt had accompanied her pupil.

"And you? What is the meaning of your face, also wet?" Robin shrugged innocently.

"I fell too," he said. Miss Heliotrope stared.

"It was very slick," Maria piped up helpfully.

"Very slick," Robin agreed.

"Well then, young man," Miss Heliotrope bristled, "you ought not to have taken Maria outside. Surely you, having grown up around here with snow every winter, should have known that it could be difficult to walk on, and you should therefore not have attempted to go for a walk in such dangerous weather." Robin was ready to protest that they were in no danger whatsoever, but Maria caught his eye and shook her head urgently. His argumentative pride deflated.

"Yes, of course. It won't happen again." Miss Heliotrope nodded curtly.

"See to it that it doesn't."

Loveday, having decided that her brother had been scolded long enough, stepped forward.

"I'm sure you must be tired, Miss Heliotrope, and Digweed too. You must get your rest before the Christmas Eve feast." She held out an arm, ready to usher Miss Heliotrope to her room. Lillian draped an arm around her cousin's shoulders and helped Loveday escort her. As they headed down the hall, Loveday called back over her shoulder to Maria.

"Don't you think I've forgotten about you, darling. Grab a bite to eat, and then scurry on up to your room, I'll help you get ready for tonight." Maria bounced on her toes.

"All right." She shot Robin an excited smile before skipping off to the kitchen. This left Robin, Sir Benjamin, Coeur De Noir, and Digweed standing awkwardly in the antechamber.

"Well." Sir Benjamin clapped his hands together, then turned abruptly and went further into the house. Digweed followed him dutifully.

"Yes, hm, right," Coeur De Noir grunted. Robin studied his father. He'd never seen Coeur De Noir so dazed. It was as though he was in a beautiful dream and he was stubbornly determined not to wake up. Robin suspected it had everything to do with Lillian. But if his father wasn't in his right mind, it was Robin's responsibility to look after him.

"We'd better go back to the village and prepare for tonight too," Robin said to his father, tilting his head towards the door. "You know, get dressed, and all that."

"Hm? Ah, yes. Yes, right. Well then, best be off." Coeur De Noir nodded, though he did not move. His eyes traced the hallway down which Lillian had just gone. Robin rolled his eyes, but he clapped his father on the shoulder and guided him out the door.

A little while later, Loveday emerged from the miniature doorway in Maria's room.

"Ready? I think it's best I help you first, and then get dressed myself, don't you think? Maria?" Maria was sitting by her window, braiding her hair absentmindedly. "Maria! You haven't even taken off the wet wool and muslin! You're going to dampen the chair, if you haven't already. Come now, let's get you dried off." Maria looked up.

"Hm? Oh, yes, sorry. Just…thinking."

"You think a great deal, darling, and I'm glad. But right now, we'll need a little more action."

"Yes, I'm sorry." Maria hurried to change out of her dress and apron. "I am excited for the feast tonight. I've never been to a Christmas Eve party." She laid the apron on her bed, and Loveday promptly threw it off, not wanting the bed to get wet. "Most of our Christmas Eves were quiet. But have you been to the feast here before?"

"Once." A smile ghosted across Loveday's lips. "A while ago. When Benjamin and I…when we were first in love. He invited business partners from the cities, for he didn't really have friends here." She folded Maria's dress. "It was rather lonely here before you came."

"What was it like? The party, I mean." Maria shivered in her undergarments. Loveday tossed her a blanket.

"Oh, grand as anything. He had Marmaduke for the food still, and Digweed for keeping the house. Digweed has an eye for details. The flower arrangements were marvelous, and in the dead of winter, we appreciate fresh blooms so much. I've never been to Digweed's greenhouse, but I imagine it's a sight to behold."

"You know," Maria said, plopping down on the bed in her blanket, "I think that's why Miss Heliotrope and Digweed love each other." Loveday paused.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Digweed loves beauty and fragile things like flowers. He sees little things." Maria crisscrossed her legs and propped up her chin like a philosopher. "Miss Heliotrope isn't an extraordinarily beautiful woman; since she is my dear friend, I can say such a thing and be honest. You know I love her. But she is not the handsomest woman, it cannot be denied. Yet Digweed sees the beauty in her." Maria's gaze grew distant. "He sees the grace and poise that I've gotten so used to, I overlook. She always tries to do the good thing, and so does he." She looked up at Loveday. "You didn't know us before we came here, but you know that we lived in a city. Cities are full of hard people, Loveday. You have to be hard in a city to get by. You cannot afford to have softness." She smiled a little. "But when we came here…well, I'd never met anyone like Digweed before. Neither of us had. I expect Miss Heliotrope had given up in her search for love. But there's something about Digweed…some sort of gentleness…don't misunderstand me, he's bumbling and awkward, but he is soft and kind. I don't think Miss Heliotrope knew that was possible in a man until we came here." She laughed. "Am I making any sense? I'm sorry, I should be dressing." Loveday smiled warmly and sat down next to her niece.

"I understand what you mean. It is good that they found each other." Maria nodded, and they both meditated on this for a moment. Then Loveday cast a sidelong glance at Maria. "Is this what you were thinking about when I came in here?" Maria's eyes twinkled.

"Part of it. I was also thinking about your father and Lillian—"

"Oh dear, you'd better not start talking about them," Loveday chuckled, rising from the bed, "Or you won't be dressed until midnight! There is much to say on the topic, I know, but we'd better focus."

"Right as always," Maria grumbled. Then her face brightened and she bounced from the bed. "Now, let's find that beautiful dress!"

A/N: My dear readers,

Thank you so much for your reviews! I love hearing from you. Sorry about the delay in updating; my laptop was a crucial part of Vacation Bible School at my church and I was unable to type until now. Thank you for your patience! I'm going to try to crank out the rest of this story soon, I assure you, but even the best of intentions can be thwarted. Let's hope our story reaches its resolution soon! I'm as anxious as you are for the end, believe me. At any rate, thanks for keeping up with our lovely characters, and please review!

Love,

Ponygirl7


	51. So Dawn Goes Down to Day

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Coeur De Noir knocked on the front door. Robin craned his neck around his father to see inside. A glimpse of candles in the antechamber sent a shiver down Robin's spine, despite the dark chill outside. This was his first real Christmas, and he intended to enjoy every minute.

The door was opened by Lillian, whose wide eyes were bright as any of the candles in the room.

"Come in, come in, please," she said quickly, waving them in. The men didn't need to be told twice. They lumbered inside, shedding their heavy coats on the coat rack as they came. Robin was surprised Maria hadn't come to welcome them, but he tried to shrug off his disappointment. Lillian surveyed Robin. "You look very handsome tonight, Robin. I'm sure Maria will be pleased to see you."

"Thank you. But…where is she?"

"Oh, everything is just about ready for supper, so everyone is in there. I'm supposed to lead you in."

"Ah, I see." Robin nodded, waiting for Lillian to lead them in. But she didn't. Robin looked at his father, who was glaring expectantly at him. Then Robin realized that Lillian had complimented him, but he had not returned the favor. "You look very…nice tonight, too, Lillian. Eh, Miss Lillian."

"Please, just call me Lillian," she smiled easily, "And thank you." Robin nodded again.

"Of course. That is, you're welcome. I'll see myself in to the dining room, then." He walked forth from the front room, mentally slapping himself. Why was he suddenly acting so odd around Lillian? If he was being honest with himself, it was likely because he didn't know how to act towards a woman who was interested in his father. It not a situation in which one finds oneself every day. But really…he thought over his words just now, frowning to himself. 'Nice'? What woman wants to be called nice? Lillian looked very pretty this evening, even Robin could admit that. Why couldn't he have been his usual charming self and say she looked exquisite tonight? Hm. 'Exquisite' was a good word. He'd have to use that one for Maria; he was sure she would look pretty tonight, whatever she was wearing.

Out of curiosity, Robin paused in his steps, listening to see whether or not his father and Lillian were following. He heard no footsteps. Oh, Father. Why don't you up and propose already? Keep carrying on like this and everyone will just assume you've proposed. Or, worse yet, Lillian will leave and never come back. Robin didn't think he could deal with a heartbroken father again. When Robin's mother had died, it had left Coeur De Noir without light in his life. Everything was death and despair and greed and plotting. Of course, Robin didn't think his father would go on the warpath again, but this might turn Coeur De Noir into a gloomy, moping mess, and frankly, Robin wasn't sure which was worse.

He listened intently again. Ah, there were the footsteps. Content, Robin continued his journey to the dining room, admiring the gentle candlelit path with red ribbons and fragrant pinecones. He stepped into the dining room, dazzled by the sheer brilliancy of the glass chandelier. Once his eyes adjusted, he looked around the room at the already seated party members, from Loveday to Sir Benjamin to Miss Heliotrope to Digweed to…

He blinked. His mouth went dry. His feet took him automatically toward Maria, who beamed up at him.

"Merry Christmas Eve, Robin! Have a seat."

Had she said something? He wasn't sure. Well, he had to say something. Exquisite. That was the word. She was the epitome of exquisiteness. He opened his mouth.

"You look…nice."

Oh, well done, Robin, well done indeed. He grimaced. But Maria only laughed.

"Thank you. So do you. Won't you sit down?" She pushed out the seat next to her. She wanted him to sit down. Right. He sat and shuffled his chair in. What was the matter with him tonight? Where was the dashing rogue? Coeur De Noir and Lillian came in. Good, now everyone else was talking. Maria turned to him.

"Marmaduke's fixed up something splendid. I've been smelling it all afternoon, but he wouldn't let me in the kitchen."

"Oh."

"Is that all you can say? Robin, what's gotten into you?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm nervous." She cocked her head, a curl gracing her brow.

"Nervous? Nervous about what? You've never had trouble eating before."

"Not about—not about eating. I'll eat more than you, I'll wager. But—" he broke off, unsure how to continue. Maria's brow creased worriedly.

"Is something wrong? Ambrose didn't escape, did he?"

"No, in fact, someone was just going to feed him as I left. He's fine."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing." He fingered the lacey napkin in his lap. "Everything is good. I think that's why I'm nervous." He looked up to meet Maria's troubled gaze, lowering his voice. "Life's never been this good. I just feel like I'm in a dream, and I don't want to wake up, but…nothing good has ever lasted in Moonacre." Maria studied him for a moment. Then,

"Trepidation."

"What?"

"That's what it's called. Trepidation. A feeling that something bad is going to happen." She sighed. "I know your life hasn't been easy. And I'm not saying it's going to be easy from now on, either. But I'm not going to give up on you, so don't you dare give up on me." She emphasized her words by poking him in the shoulder. There was a quiet fierceness to her brown eyes, and Robin knew she meant every word. He shook his head, walking the fine line between maintaining eye contact and losing himself in her gaze.

"You."

"Me."

"What would I do without you?"

"Lucky you, you won't have to anymore." She said it with such bright certainty, it just might turn out to be true.

Then Robin groaned in frustration.

"Oh, what is it now?" He turned to her.

"I just wish we were alone so I could kiss you," he muttered under his breath. A grin broke out across her face.

"Sorry, but you'll have to save that thought. It's time to eat."

Sir Benjamin clinked his glass, and they all joined hands and prayed. Then Marmaduke sped in with the fattest turkey Robin had ever seen, adorned with who knows what. Robin would have to ask Maria what each kind of food was; they didn't have such fancy fare at the De Noir village. Gleaming silver platters stretched down the table within the blink of an eye, steam rising up with the most delectable aromas. Everyone began to talk and eat and laugh.

Robin, however, had a duty to fulfill. He turned to Maria. She wiggled her eyebrows merrily in return.

"Maria," he swallowed, "when I said you looked nice tonight…it was true, but it doesn't do you justice. You look exquisite. You…you glow." Her lips curved up.

"I know." Then, seeing his confused expression, she laughed. "I'm teasing. And thank you. I wonder how long it took you to think of the word 'exquisite'. But honestly, knowing that you were at a loss for words upon seeing me is probably more flattering than if you were to expound upon my beauty in iambic pentameter."

"In _what_?"

"Oh, it has to do with poetry. Never mind. And you look so handsome tonight, it almost makes _me_ wish that we were alone too."

"Almost?" He raised an eyebrow, preening his neck feathers. "Are you kidding? I'm irresistible." She smirked.

"Then it seems I am very strong indeed, to keep resisting you." He grinned.

"Aye, but the evening is not over yet."

A/N: My dear readers,

Thank you so much for reading this! For some reason, the last little bit of this chapter made me think of Shakespeare's _Julius_ _Caesar_ (aside from the iambic pentameter remark), when JC says proudly to the Soothsayer: "the ides of March are come" and the Soothsayer replies ominously: "Ay, Caesar; but not gone". Except, in these circumstances, we're anticipating a sweet kiss and not a gory death. Ah, happy thoughts indeed! I want to especially thank Donutbird and MajorPayne67 today for their prompt and uplifting reviews. You truly made my day. Love you all!

Your

Ponygirl7


	52. Sleep in Heavenly Peace

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

It is unnecessary for me to tell you that the Christmas Eve meal was extraordinarily delicious; I need only tell you that Marmaduke was the cook.

I will also refrain from mentioning how many times Miss Heliotrope burped throughout the meal. You're welcome.

After supper, everyone adjourned to the piano room to sit and admire the tree. Then Lillian seated herself at the piano and struck a chord.

"Who's ready for Christmas carols?"

"Christmas what?" Coeur De Noir asked her. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Dear me. You've never heard of Christmas carols? Joy to the World? Silent Night? Hark the Herald?" Coeur De Noir shook his head. Maria turned to Robin, who sat beside her on the floor.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Christmas carols either."

"Actually, I think I know some of the ones Lillian mentioned." His fingers twirled a lock of her hair. "There was an old woman in the village who used to give me bits of leather, a tanner's wife. She sang a great deal. Lots of us kids sang with her. But I'm not surprised my father doesn't know them. This is his first real Christmas celebration as well as mine."

"You'll catch on," Lillian was saying, "Now then, what'll we do first?" Loveday raised a hand.

"I do love Joy to the World."

"Joy to the World it is," Lillian decided. Maria looked at Robin questioningly. He nodded.

"I know this one."

Lillian's fingers leapt nimbly over the keys, and everyone, Coeur De Noir excepted, came in at full volume. Between Miss Heliotrope's quivering soprano, Loveday's mellow alto, and Maria's floating, versatile range, the women's section was varied. The men were all strong singers. Even Digweed, to Maria's surprise, had a fine singing voice. By the time they ended with a hearty 'Amen', Coeur De Noir had begun to catch on. They all clapped. Then they sang Silent Night, What Child is This, and From Heaven Above to Earth I Come. After the last one's fifteenth verse, everyone's voices were drained.

"I have one more request, actually," Loveday said sheepishly. "It's only four verses, and since the last part's the same, I know Father will catch on." Lillian looked up at Coeur De Noir.

"I think he's a rather fast learner. But which carol, Loveday?"

"Hark the Herald Angels Sing, if you please."

"All right everyone, ready for one more?" Lillian's fingers didn't wait for an answer. Though this time, her playing was less proud and joyous as it was meek and humble, rather, Maria thought, like Jesus was when He came to earth as a baby. She was glad of the quieter playing, though; her voice was weary of fortissimo. She leaned into Robin as she sang:

"Peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled."

Sure enough, Coeur De Noir did learn the refrain. When at last they all sang the 'Amen', everyone seemed in a dreamy trance. Robin smiled down at Maria, watching her blink slowly in the candlelight. She smiled sleepily up at him.

"Are you staying tonight?" He frowned.

"Wh—what?"

"Are you staying in the guest room here? Or are you going back to your home tonight?"

"Oh. I don't know." He relayed the question to his father, who shrugged.

"Up to Sir Benjamin, I expect. It's his house."

"Oh, of course you can stay," Loveday said, quirking her brow up at her husband, who chuckled.

"We'd be happy to have you. I'm sure you'd rather not go back out into the cold tonight. And of course, we'll open presents tomorrow morning. We'll need you here for that as well." A few minutes of peaceful silence passed. Then Miss Heliotrope stood.

"I think I'd better retire. I'd like to well rested for my wedding tomorrow." She bid everyone good night, and Digweed escorted her down the hall. Maria sighed.

"She's right. We have a big day tomorrow. Christmas and a wedding, all rolled into one." She rose, and Robin followed suit. "Good night, everyone. I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll be sure to wake you in time to get you dressed for church," Loveday said.

"Thank you." Maria leaned down to kiss Loveday's cheek. "Uncle Benjamin made a good choice of wife. Your baby is going to be the happiest little child in the world."

"And he or she will have a marvelous cousin," Loveday returned the compliment. Maria grinned in anticipation of being an older cousin. A few more 'good night's were exchanged, and then Maria and Robin made their way up the stairs out to the hallway.

"Before I go to bed," Maria said, "come with me to the front room."

"The front room?" Robin repeated dubiously. "We're finally alone together, and you want to go to the drafty antechamber?"

"Yes," she replied stoutly. He had no choice but to follow her. At last they found themselves in the front room. "Now, tell me what you see," Maria said, backing away from him. He looked around.

"A coat rack. Doors? Fireplace over there. Chairs…a rug…"

"You don't notice anything different? Come now, you're a hunter. You have sharp eyes." So he scanned the room again, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Maria folded her hands behind her back. "Look up." He did so, and he saw a little bundle of greenery hanging from the ceiling. By the flickering fire light, he could see they were green with little white berries.

"Why would you hang plants from the ceiling? No one would notice them there unless you pointed it out." Maria laughed airily.

"If they were just normal plants, yes, I agree, it wouldn't make sense."

"Are they magical plants, then?"

"Of a sort."

"Why are you being so mysterious and vague?" He stepped toward her.

"Well, I rarely get to be so. Let me enjoy the moment, knowing something you don't know."

"You know a lot of things that I don't know."

"This is true. Would you look at that, you're being humble!"

"'Twas a rare occurrence, I assure you."

"Oh, I know." He took another step towards her.

"So what are these confounded plants?" She stepped back, enjoying his confusion.

"This, Robin, is mistletoe." She waited. He shrugged.

"All right. Good for it."

"You've truly never heard of mistletoe?"

"Does it look like I have?"

"Well, you've lived in the woods."

"I've never seen this in the woods."

"Oh. Maybe it's special from Digweed's greenhouse."

"Probably." He neared her. "Do you have a point, or are you just prolonging the suspense for your own guilty pleasure?"

"A little of both. All right, here you go: traditionally at Christmas, when people walk under mistletoe, they're supposed to kiss." Robin's eyes glittered.

"I'm beginning to like your Christmas traditions."

"I thought you would." Now she stepped near him. They stood directly below the mistletoe. Then a flicker of something crossed over Robin's face. "What?" Maria asked.

"Noth—well, it's just that my father and Lillian spent an unusual amount of time in this room when we arrived. That's why I came in to supper first." Maria slid her arms around his neck and interlocked her fingers.

"And…how do you feel about that?" He hesitated.

"I…it's strange. It'll take some getting used to. But I'm glad for him, if it works out." Maria nodded.

"You're sensible." He pulled her closer to him.

"You're beautiful." She shook back her hair.

"You're flattering."

"You're humble."

"You're…" she trailed off, drowning in his dark eyes. Her breath hitched in the silence.

He smiled. He bent down, his lips meeting hers. She tasted of cinnamon and spices.

She leaned into him. His curls brushed across her forehead. Oh, she could stay in his arms forever.

And then voices echoed in the corridor. Robin quickly maneuvered Maria away from the center of the room, pressing her into a dark corner. They held their breath, frozen, as Sir Benjamin and Loveday came round the corner and mounted the stairs towards their room. Only when their footsteps could no longer be heard, did Robin and Maria collapse into each other, laughing.

"That's enough excitement for one evening," Maria whispered to him once they had calmed down. "Now, if you please, I will retire to my room."

"At least let me escort you," Robin said, offering her his arm. She took it, and they ascended the staircase together. When they came to Maria's little door, she turned round.

"You can't come in, I'm sorry. But I'd never hear the end of it if Miss Heliotrope found out."

"Come on, how would Miss Heliotrope find out?" Robin pleaded. Maria only smiled.

"Good night, Bird Boy." He sighed.

"Good night, Princess."

She ducked inside and shut the door. Robin lingered outside. He leaned up against the door, pressing his forehead to the cool wood.

"Princess?"

"Robin?" He paused.

"Merry Christmas." There was a silence, and Robin knew she was smiling.

"Merry Christmas."

He stayed just a moment longer, a silly grin plastered to his face as he leaned against the door. He was deliriously happy. But this delirious boy had better get some sleep if he was to be in any state to attend a wedding. So he made his way downstairs. Every step he took matched the thudding of his heart. Yes, it was a merry Christmas. It truly was.

A/N: Hello again!

I've been productive this evening! Aren't you proud? I love Christmas Eves, and this Christmas Eve at Moonacre was delightfully cozy. A shame I'm writing this in July…but who knows, you may be reading this in December! At any rate, please continue with this story and please review! It is the loveliest motivation.

Love,

Ponygirl7


	53. Presents & Pews

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"Merry Christmas, Maria."

The words breached the outskirts of Maria's consciousness, stirring her from a remarkably sound sleep.

"Maria? Time to wake up." Loveday's lilting voice echoed through Maria's ears.

"Yes, I'm up, I'm up," Maria mumbled, rolling over. Loveday's lips slid into a smile, and she drew open the curtains, letting cold sunlight come streaming in. "Oh!" Maria grunted as the light slammed into her eyes.

"I thought that would do it," Loveday smiled. She was already dressed in a lovely blue church dress and plumed hat. Maria struggled to rise to a sitting position.

"What time is it?"

"High time for you to get up," Loveday retorted. "I've got your white fur-trimmed dress laid out here, and your muff and hat are over there. I brought a pitcher of water for washing your face, but if you don't start moving in a business-like fashion, I may have to splash it out on you right now." Those were the magic words needed to bring Maria to life. She'd had her fill of cold water in her face from the snowball fight yesterday, thank you very much. She sprung out of bed and was soon dressed.

Everyone gathered for a delicious spread of breakfast in the dining room, where it was discovered that Coeur De Noir and Robin had never tasted French toast. When they finished the meal, they assaulted Marmaduke with profuse thanks once he came out again, and then migrated to the piano room in order to exchange gifts. Now everyone sat around the tree, though lack of chairs dictated that Maria, Robin, and Lillian sit on the floor.

"Why don't you sit here?" Coeur De Noir proffered his chair. Lillian waved it off.

"I'm more than happy to sit on the floor. It makes me feel like a girl again, giddy on Christmas morning." Indeed, Lillian was looking remarkably youthful today. Perhaps there was something about Christmas that brought out everyone's inner child, Maria thought. Or perhaps Lillian's radiance was more accurately attributed to her being in love. Maria smiled at the thought.

"What are you smiling about?" Robin raised an eyebrow at her. She laughed.

"It's a wonder you aren't smiling. How can I help it? It's Christmas morning, I'm surrounded by those I love, and Miss Heliotrope is getting married today!"

"Well, save some joy for later. We can't have you collapsing in the middle of the wedding because you drained all of your energy smiling." She flicked his feathers toward his face.

"I'm a bottomless well of happiness today, Robin. Why aren't you more lively? Did you not sleep well?" Her smile taunted him. "Were you homesick?"

"My home is a short walk away. If I were homesick, I'd consider myself pitiful. And I did sleep well, actually. It's just that some of us are better at keeping a tight rein on our emotions."

"But why would you want to?"

"It's so much _energy_ to smile all the time."

"Well, it seems I have a great deal of energy today."

"Heaven help us all." He sighed. She swatted him playfully.

"You fun-hating fiend, you. Now help me pass out presents, please."

"It's not that I'm against fun, mind you," his eyes glinted, and his fingers grazed her chin, "and I especially like a certain kind of fun—"

"Robin De Noir," she rolled her eyes, "you, sir, are insufferable. But really, we need to pass out the gifts and open them. We don't want to be late to church."

"Very well."

They distributed the presents and everyone hurried to open their gifts. Everyone was delighted with the cranberry bread from Maria. Loveday held the baby blanket against her cheek and Maria almost thought she saw tears sparkling in Loveday's eyes. Miss Heliotrope was charmed by the brooch; she did so love antiques. But when Miss Heliotrope and Digweed came across the money Maria wanted to give them for their honeymoon, they protested. Maria knew they'd protest; it was in their nature. But she had thought that they'd accept it a little more willingly.

"But you can go somewhere nice! Rome, and see all the sights, or—or Paris! You—"

"It's not that, y'see," Digweed broke in gently, "it's that we don't need it. We're not going far for—for our honeymoon; we're just goin' to town."

"To town? You mean…you already decided?"

"I'm afraid we did." Miss Heliotrope patted Maria's hand. "And our minds are quite made up."

"Well, please take the money anyway," Maria said, determined. "You may want to go on a trip sometime, if not now."

"It seems she wants us out of the house," Miss Heliotrope cracked one of her rare wry smiles. Maria shrugged impishly.

"It wouldn't hurt. But I _know_ you'll have fun taking a little trip, I just know it!" She sat back on her heels, assuming a confident smile. "You're not going to win this battle. I have Merryweather blood in me; I'm as stubborn as they come."

"She speaks the truth," Sir Benjamin chuckled. "Go on and take it, Digweed."

"Yes," Loveday urged, "or you'll make us late for church! We'd better clean up in here quickly." And so, reluctantly, Miss Heliotrope and Digweed accepted the money. Everyone flurried around, picking up wrapping paper and ribbon, and then hauled their gifts up to their respective rooms. Then they all met in the antechamber, faces flushed, ready to go to church. Digweed and Sir Benjamin would be driving the two carriages, since there were so many people.

It was a starkly cold day outside, but Miss Heliotrope insisted on sitting on the driver's seat with her fiancé. This left the coach to Coeur De Noir and Lillian. Loveday wanted to ride up by Sir Benjamin, but he would not have it.

"A woman in your condition needs to stay warm. You don't want to catch pneumonia."

"I don't want you to catch pneumonia either! I'll keep you warm," Loveday countered, "and after all, I'm hardly into my first trimester!" But Sir Benjamin, being a Merryweather by blood, was not to be convinced. So Loveday rode in the carriage with Maria and Robin.

Robin was slightly peeved that he and Maria would not have the carriage to themselves, but of course he did want his pregnant sister to suffer any harm. They endured the ride in relative silence, though Robin found himself tapping his fingers lightly into Maria's open palm while Loveday pretended not to notice.

They made it to the little white church with just a few minutes to spare. Everyone bustled down the aisle to their usual seats, second row from the front. Maria rather disliked sitting so far up front, for they were habitually last-minute if not tardy, and she would rather enter and sit quietly in the back than catch everyone's eye by striding up to their seats. But it was a Merryweather tradition, and of course that could not be questioned.

Robin shifted uncomfortably in the wooden pew. He disliked sitting so much, but then when they rose, he disliked the awkward height of the rail in front of him, which didn't quite reach his waist height. He'd been with Maria to church before, and, aside from the uncomfortable pews, he enjoyed it as a whole. As a pleasant bonus, all the hymns they sang today were ones they'd sung last night at the manor, so they were fresh in his memory. Even Coeur De Noir was able to sing along to most of them.

The sermon was solid and uplifting. Robin and his father hung back while the rest took communion, of course, but then they all joined together for the last hymn: Joy to the World. The organist in the back must be aiming to collapse the church, Robin thought. He could feel the vibrations of thunderous musical exclamation. But he sang along heartily, trying to ignore the quiverings of the small chandelier above him.

And then the service was over, and everyone lined up down the aisle to shake the pastor's hand before leaving. Maria told Robin that some church ladies would be decorating for the wedding later. It wouldn't be much, since it was a simple wedding. But Robin didn't quite catch all of her words; he was too busy studying the organ.

The organist was an average looking man, with short brown hair and a stern profile. Nothing extraordinary. But the unbridled power and dexterity with which he ruled the multiple keyboards astounded Robin. Lillian's piano playing was intricate and flowing. This was infinite authority and command. Hm. Perhaps Robin would learn to play the organ.

Before he knew it, he had shaken the pastor's hand and was swept out the door into the carriage. Maria tapped her fingers into his hand.

"What is it? You look distant."

"Hm? How hard is it to play the organ?" Maria stared at him, and then she began to laugh. Loveday joined in.

"My dear brother," Loveday said, "it requires a great deal of study and practice. Years."

"Well, I'm young."

"So you are," Maria traced her fingertips over the ridges of his knuckles. "So you are. And if you decide to take up organ-playing, I'll support you in that endeavor. Though perhaps it'd be best to start by learning the piano." He cocked his head.

"You could teach me."

"I think Lillian is a far more experienced pianist."

"But she's leaving soon, isn't she?"

Maria smiled knowingly.

"In theory, Robin. In theory."

A/N: Beloved reader,

Thanks for reading this chapter! Moving right along, aren't we? Many thanks to Rahoggy and SilverScarlet626 for your lovely reviews. I hope your day is sunny and kind, just like yourselves! Please continue to read and review not only my stories, but other Moonacre authors' works as well. Love you all!

Ponygirl7


	54. Utter Frustration

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Ambrose hadn't gotten much sleep last night; it was rather hard to sleep when one's toes were frozen. Nevertheless, he had tried. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. But now it was morning. Christmas morning, he thought resentfully. What a fine way to spend Christmas. Hopefully the girl would bring him breakfast soon.

He stood up from the bedframe. His joints ached. Oh, for those down feather pillows at the Manor! But perhaps he could put in some requests. Time in this cell seemed to stretch into infinity. He would die of boredom before he died of cold. He needed to see someone, to talk to someone, to stave off insanity. He ran a hand through his dark hair. There had to be something he could do to trick the girl into entering his prison.

He could pretend to be injured or sick. He was already beginning to feel a cold coming on. But would she care? Likely not. And when they discovered he'd been acting, he might be judged an even harsher sentence than his current one, if indeed such a thing did exist.

Judging from last night, he could not persuade the girl in by words alone. She seemed immune to that. She was, regrettably, clever. He began to pace, stretching out his sore muscles. What did he know about this girl?

She was in love with Robin De Noir. That was something. She'd probably been in a relationship with Ambrose; or, at least, he'd flirted. She was a kitchen maid. Shrewd, but she wasn't selfish. Was there anything he could use?

Well, when she came, he couldn't stay silent. She might just assume he was asleep, leave the tray, and walk off. He couldn't let that happen. He had to make her curious enough to walk into his cell.

Perhaps he could pretend that he was trying to escape. He could make various noises with the bedframe and bucket of water. Yes, and he wouldn't answer when she asked what he was doing. And he wouldn't give back the empty tray from last night. Yes, that might work. She would come into the cell…and then what?

He would have to pick up a conversation quickly. He would also have to have an excuse for why he'd been making those noises. He couldn't let her escape. But he also couldn't really act as though he was trying to escape, either, for fear of further punishment. He had to hold her interest, captivate her. Typically, this was not a difficult thing for Ambrose to do. He was handsome and charming. Most girls couldn't help but fall under his spell, to one degree or another. But unfortunately, this girl seemed insusceptible. Well, he comforted himself, that had been with a door between them. Perhaps when she was forced to face his roguish charm, she'd be more pliable. He'd have to hope so.

Kneeling in front of the water bucket like a dog and hating himself for it, Ambrose splashed icy water on his face. He had to look presentable. He arranged his hair carefully, trying to use the water for a mirror, which was more difficult than one might think.

Now all he had to do was wait.

And wait he did.

After what seemed like hours, he was sure they'd forgotten about him. Time dragged on in his cell. He couldn't tell the time of day by the light, for the sky was unchanging winter whiteness.

Then…footsteps!

He stood triumphantly. Time to put his plan into action. He nicked the water bucket with his knuckles and kicked the bedframe in a disjointed rhythm. The footsteps got closer. He decided to add more of a variety of sound, so he began to make odd noises with his mouth. It was a peculiar symphony of sorts.

The footsteps stopped.

"Here's your food. Slide the other tray under."

Good, it was the same girl. Ambrose made no response as she slid her full tray of food under his door.

"The tray, please." She tapped her foot impatiently. "Ambrose? We're busy in the kitchen." He chirped in reply. A minute passed. She was surprisingly patient. Probably more like stubborn. "Well, I suppose you can't do much harm with two trays. Merry Christmas." The footsteps began to retreat.

"No, wait!" Ambrose threw away his last shred of dignity. "Come back! I'll give you the tray." He ran over to the door. "Just come in. I'm dreadfully bored. Just…" the footsteps grew softer and softer. He banged his head into the door, roaring with frustration. And usually, Ambrose did not roar. Oh, he was angry. Here he'd been waiting for so long, he'd taken the time to arrange something interesting, something to spark curiosity, he'd humbled himself to using base means, and all for naught.

He scarfed down the food she'd brought, which somewhat alleviated his infuriation. Then he put the trays under his bed. He'd start a collection. He'd be petty. He'd annoy the servant girl. That, at least, would be something. And really, how hard was it for her to stay a minute and chat, hm? It wouldn't take much effort. And Ambrose was a brilliant conversationalist. Oh, the jailbird life was a lonely one. Woe was he.

He eventually worked out his anger by doing exercising. The food had given him energy, and he had to do something, else he would go mad. So he did push-ups and sit-ups and planks and who knows what else. He ran in place. It would be too degrading to run around his cell; he would feel like a hamster. He kept moving until he could no longer, and he toppled, exhausted, upon his bed. That sleep which evaded him last night welcomed him like an old friend.

A/N: Beloved reader,

Thanks for reading! I almost feel sorry for Ambrose, but he's really just a weakling. He pities himself, writes himself as the tragic hero. It's amusing to write, anyway. What are your thoughts regarding our dear coward? I'd love to know.

Your devoted

Ponygirl7


	55. The Importance of Being Grateful

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Ambrose heard the creaking of hinges. He must be dreaming. He rolled over, grumbling something about kitchen servants and selfishness and 'couldn't even open the door'.

"Get up."

"Go away," he mumbled.

"All right, then." The footsteps receded. Then:

"WAIT!" Ambrose sprung from his bed. "Don't-go-don't-go-please-don't-go." The girl paused in the doorway, holding a small rectangular box in her hands. She arched an eyebrow.

"Why not?" He grasped desperately for a reason while trying to remember what her name was.

"I'm bored." It was the best he could come up with quickly. It was the truth. "I'm dying of boredom." Her eyes narrowed.

"Dying of boredom." She shook her head disbelievingly. "You are the most selfish boy I've ever met." She turned and slammed the door behind her.

"No-no-no-please-wait! I didn't mean—why did you—what was—isn't it Christmas?" He listened. He didn't hear any footsteps. Had she gone? Or was she standing out there, motionless? "Please." Was she even there? Was he just talking to himself now? "Isn't Christmas a time for kindness?" Silence.

Then, a scraping noise. Not the hinges, no. His eye caught on the box she'd been holding, now slipped under the door.

"What's this?"

"Open it and see." Good! She was still there. He tiptoed forward and crouched down in front of the box, then opened it. It was a small orange pie. He sniffed it hesitantly. Sweet potato. His nose wrinkled in disgust. He hated sweet potatoes.

"It's sweet potato pie." The girl said from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, I gathered that." Silence widened the gap between them.

"Aren't you going to thank me?"

"Uh, right. Thanks."

"Can't you do better than that?"

"Not really. I don't like sweet potatoes."

The girl didn't reply.

Then suddenly the door flew open, crashing into his head. He fell back onto his forearms. The girl—what was her name?—stood angrily over him.

"'I don't like sweet potatoes'? What kind of gratitude is that? You're a prisoner, you shouldn't be having anything." Her dark eyes burned. "You don't deserve special treatment, especially not from me." He struggled to stand. "But I thought maybe—I brought you a pie, a fresh pie, and I didn't really consider that you wouldn't like sweet potatoes." Her voice rose and Ambrose took a step back. "I didn't think it would matter because you are stuck in a tower and should be grateful for anything I brought! At least, I thought so." She waved her hands vehemently, stepping toward him. "I didn't think you would be so snobbish as to _refuse_ something that I'd obviously gone to great lengths to get, because everyone knows that the pies are the first things to get eaten on Christmas, and I thought you might enjoy one since you've got nothing else to enjoy in your miserable life." He tried to step away from her, but his back was against the wall. "Do you ever consider anyone but yourself? It's all about you, all the time. It always was. What was best for you, you did. Didn't consider anyone else's feelings at all, you just…you just…" she ran out of words, breathing heavily up into his face. He held his breath, not daring to move for fear of invoking further rage and trying valiantly not to notice how pretty she really was or how she smelled of flour and vanilla.

Oh, what was her blasted name?

She squared her jaw. She had found the words.

"You just abandon them." He stiffened. She rolled her eyes and turned from him. "I don't even know why I bothered—"

 _Click_.

Jackie.

"Jackie." She frowned over her shoulder at him.

"You remember?" He hesitated. No, he didn't. Not really. Was there something he was supposed to remember? She turned to face him fully again. "You don't," she answered for him, blowing a puff of air, making a strand of dark hair that had fallen over her forehead flutter. "Don't see why you would. You rebounded soon enough." She looked down, shaking her head. "I shouldn't have expected you to remember. I shouldn't have expected anything from you."

Ambrose had no idea what to do. She was awfully pretty; obviously he'd always had good taste. But why had he abandoned her?

It hit him. It should've been obvious, except he couldn't quite think straight while looking at her.

She was a servant maid, good heavens.

She was dirt poor.

She was…leaving.

"Wait, please!" He rushed to the door, closing it quickly before she could leave. He heard a faint thud. She glared at him.

"You idiot."

"No, I just want to talk to you. You don't have to stay long, but—"

"You _idiot_!" She repeated. "It seems I _will_ have to stay long." He stared blankly at her. She raised her eyebrows. "The key was in the door." He swallowed hard.

This was not going well at all.

"Someone will come to feed me," he reasoned.

"I'm the one who comes to feed you," she growled.

"Well, they'll notice you're missing in the kitchen."

"I said I was going home. I couldn't tell them I was taking a pie to a prisoner! You absolute idiot!" She landed a fist on his chest, and, finding it to be cathartic, began punching him. He grabbed one of her flying fists, than the other, holding her.

"Punching me is not going to help matters."

"It was well deserved," she muttered. "And I found it very therapeutic."

"Yeah, well I didn't." He looked at her. "You're pretty." He couldn't help saying it. Then, to his alarm, she seemed to deflate.

"Those were the first words you said to me. So original."

"Well, it's true."

"Let go of me."

"Can you just—can you hold still?" He studied her. Jackie. Kitchen maid. Poor. Abandonment.

Oh.

A blurry memory was churned up, hazy and nearly forgotten. A wink. A smirk. A picnic. Then the information that although her uncle was rich, he also hated her. Ambrose had gone to fill up the water pitcher, but he hadn't returned.

He blinked.

"I'm sorry."

"I doubt that." She ripped her hands from his, but her words weren't bitter this time. Just matter-of-fact.

"You deserve to be remembered," he said quietly. She gave him a steady look. For a long moment, he wasn't sure whether she was going to punch him or kiss him; hopefully the latter. But she did neither. She only inclined her head.

"Yes, I do."

Then he frowned, remembering their talk last night.

"But you…you love Robin? Someone you know you can never…could never…?"

"Never say never," she said, but she gave him a sad, ironic smile. "Anyway, it's safe this way. Can't get hurt."

"Seems to me, you're hurting."

"Seems to me, it's none of your business," she said sharply, turning from him. "But since we're stuck here, we need to establish some rules." She stepped to the other side of the room. "This is my side, that's yours. The bucket is the divider. Cross to my side, and you'll suffer the consequences." She looked quickly up at him. "I'm still angry with you, you know."

"Right." He paced his side of the room, considering the new situation. He was rather pleased that she was trapped in here with him. It certainly wasn't boring. Then he paused, straightening his shoulders. "Actually, I have a welcoming gift for you." Her eyebrows lifted in incredulousness.

"Oh?"

He grinned handsomely.

"How do you feel about sweet potato pie?"

A/N: Dear readers,

What do you think our new little turn of events? How do you like Jackie (if indeed you like her at all)? Do let me know; I'm all ears.

Love,

Ponygirl7


	56. A Thoughtful Something

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

When they came home, the wedding party was happy to discover that Marmaduke had whipped up a brunch for them, of which the ladies ate sparingly and the gentlemen devoured. Only Digweed was too nervous to eat anything. But the men ushered him off to prepare for the wedding, and the ladies whisked Miss Heliotrope away to do likewise.

Maria squeezed into a chair in the corner. Miss Heliotrope's room was not very large, and with Loveday and Lillian fluttering busily around the bride, Maria felt very much in the way. But she felt obliged by social convention and her desire to show support for her dear tutor, so she tucked her knees to her chest and watched the goings-on. She had gone to Sir Benjamin and Loveday's wedding not long ago, but she had not helped Loveday prepare. There had been De Noir servants for that, and they hadn't made a big fuss. It had been a simple wedding.

Well, Maria had thought this was going to be a simple wedding too, but apparently every little detail of Miss Heliotrope's appearance had to be _just so_. Usually, Miss Heliotrope was the perfectionist. But now it seemed that she was merely a mannequin, and Lillian and Loveday were the micromanaging fashionistas.

Miss Heliotrope was standing stiffly before the vanity mirror while Lillian did something to her face with a powder and Loveday did some last minute stitching to Miss Heliotrope's best dress. Maria was pleased to see that her tutor would be wearing the brooch she'd received last night. Maria felt a sparkling pleasure just knowing that she had found something old and dusty and now it would be treasured and loved once more. This pricked her memory of the old rhyme:

Something old,

Something new,

Something borrowed,

Something blue.

Did Miss Heliotrope have all of those things? Maria dangled her legs down over the front of her chair, looking closer at her tutor. She had the something old: the brooch. But as to the rest…she fulfilled none of those traditional wedding requirements. Miss Heliotrope was wearing a simple white satin gown with lace trim and collar. The purple brooch would add a splash of color, but what could she wear that was blue? Maria considered for a moment before bolting from her chair and out of the room, calling behind her through the swinging door,

"I'll be right back!"

Running haphazardly, she grabbed the stair rail and pulled herself around to mount the stairs—

"Oof!"

"Watch it, Princess. You all right?" Robin caught her before she fell back.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said breathlessly, eyes shining, "but I'm on a mission, so if you wouldn't mind—"

"No, wait! I'm on a mission too, sort of. But uh, can you help me?"

"I—I suppose. What do you need?"

"Shoosheinreelkwick. Do you know what that is?" Maria frowned at him.

"Repeat that, slower."

"Shoo-shein-reelk-wick. What is it? I have no idea. Why are you laughing? Is it something funny?"

"And I thought it was hectic in the ladies' room," Maria chuckled. "Robin, did they tell you to get some shoo-shein-reelk-wick?"

"Yes…" he said suspiciously, "why? Does that not exist?" He glared accusingly in the direction of the men's room. "Was that just a ploy to get me away?"

"No. Robin, they wanted shoe shine. They wanted you to get shoe shine real quick. Really quickly." She looked past him up the stairs. "Do they need help in there? It sounds like they're pretty stressed."

"I think they've got it under control," Robin muttered, mildly embarrassed. "But where is the shoe shine?"

"I'll get it for you." Still grinning, Maria dashed off to the closet, returning momentarily with the shoe shine. Having helped Robin, she then ran up the stairs, skipping some steps recklessly. Bursting into her room, she launched herself toward her own vanity set and hurled open a drawer. _Perfect_. She grabbed her blue ribbon, shut the drawer, then reopened the drawer to hurriedly pull the rest of the ribbon out, as it had gotten stuck in the drawer. Then, with an exasperated sigh, she shut the drawer again and ran from her room.

She surged into the ladies' room panting, but clutching the ribbon aloft triumphantly.

"It's blue _and_ borrowed!" She exclaimed to the startled women. Lillian was the first to recover her senses.

"How thoughtful!" She exclaimed, taking the ribbon Maria held out. "I'm sure we can work this into her hair somehow." Loveday's face stretched into a smile of recognition.

"Some old, something new," she nodded.

"Right!" Maria chirped. "The ribbon is both blue and borrowed! The brooch is old—"

"But it's also new," Lillian added. "New to Jane, anyway." Maria frowned.

"I hadn't considered that. Is that…" she quirked an eyebrow at her tutor, "is that legitimate? Or is that cheating?" Miss Heliotrope laughed airily, which was an uncommon occurrence, and that fact that it was followed by such carefree words made Maria wonder if it truly was her tutor under those layers of lace.

"I think that I am getting married very soon, and it will simply _have_ to be legitimate." Her breeziness quieted, and she reached out and took hold of Maria's hand. The wrinkles of her face crinkled in a warm smile. "Thank you, Maria." And in those three words and her two bespectacled eyes, Miss Heliotrope showed more true unaffected love for her dear pupil than any eloquent speech could convey. Maria basked in the simple warmth of her tutor's happiness, only nodding in reply.

After a beat, Lillian and Loveday leapt in again, fussing with the ribbon to make it _just_ _so_. Maria retreated to her chair again, glad to have been of service. After a bit, it seemed the bride was ready.

"Now, don't move," Loveday instructed to Miss Heliotrope, "yes, just sit. The rest of us have got to get dressed, but that will take considerably less time." She clapped her hands. "Up, up, Maria! Time for you to change." They all dispersed to their respective rooms to change into their wedding apparel.

At last, everyone met downstairs by the front door and donned their coats. Maria was pleased to see Robin staring at her, lips slightly parted in awe. She knew that the dress Loveday had given her was beautiful. She couldn't suppress the surge of satisfaction she felt upon seeing Robin speechless.

"And how do you like my dress?" Her eyes were teasing. He blinked.

"I—it's fine." Maria rolled her eyes, but they came to rest on him again. He looked particularly handsome too, but she wouldn't tell him that. His ego was inflated enough, as it was.

Robin helped Maria into her coat, and they all filed out. They all ensured that Digweed went out first and Miss Heliotrope went out last, as it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. The gentlemen pulled the carriages up. Robin was to drive the ladies, who all crammed into one carriage, and the other gentlemen all took the other.

Each carriage was silent as they drove to the church. The men were likely silent because no one had anything they really wanted to say. The women were silent because they all wanted to speak, but none of them wanted to make Miss Heliotrope nervous.

Consequently, Miss Heliotrope was very nervous for the entire ride, having no conversation to distract her from the frightening prospect of having to stand up in front of people and speak. At least it would be a relatively small wedding, she comforted herself. And Digweed would be there. The thought almost made her smile. Of course Digweed would be there. It was a pleasant thing to look into the uncertain future and see a constant, a comforting person whom you love dearly. She closed her eyes, the spectacles rattling on her nose as the carriage bumped along.

Miss Heliotrope, the old spinster, was getting married after all.

A/N: Dear reader,

I'm thinking presently of Jane Austen's book _Persuasion_. The girl, Anne Elliot, is 27 years old, and she is considered an unfortunate spinster past her bloom (until Captain Wentworth comes again and marries her. I'm not doing the plot justice; do please read the book. It's better than I'm making it out to be. But can you imagine the shame Miss Heliotrope has had to endure all her life just for being an unmarried woman? Anne Elliot was not yet thirty! Miss Heliotrope is far past thirty, I assure you. Yet she has borne it with dignity and poise, mostly. And now she can laugh in the scorners' faces. How satisfactory! Bravo. Thank you, and good day.

Ponygirl7


	57. Weddings Past, Present, & Future

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

The wedding was a gentle affair, as many happy ones are. The organist coaxed out a touching rendition of Pachelbel's Canon, Wagner's splendid Bridal Chorus, Mendelssohn's triumphant Wedding March. Robin got to walk Maria down the aisle while Sir Benjamin paired off with Loveday and Coeur De Noir escorted Lillian. None of these pairs were surprising in the least, and all of them were very pleased with the arrangement. Miss Heliotrope strode down the aisle without a hitch, affording her great relief.

The pastor was punctual, presentable, and well-spoken, all of which pleased Miss Heliotrope very much. It would not do to have a late, disheveled, mumbling pastor on her wedding day. She would not have stood for it. And Digweed even made an effort to speak clearly and strongly when saying his vows. Miss Heliotrope was radiant with joy.

It is a great comfort to be surrounded by loving family and friends for such an auspicious moment. It dulls the glamor a little, and makes it homey and warm. So although Miss Heliotrope looked very beautiful and very stiff and formal, she felt a little more at ease, which during such a proper occasion was for her a great thing.

Digweed did not feel at all at ease. Proper ceremonies were not his cup of tea. He knew that it would be like this. It was a shame for the groom not to enjoy the wedding, but really, there is hardly a groom in the world that would object to having the whole affair shortened to two minutes and reduced to everyday wear. All the finery was uncomfortable and bred nervousness. Nevertheless, Digweed was determined not to do anything amiss. He spoke out as well as he could, and stood straight and tall. This was Jane's day, and doggone it, he would do his part to make her happy.

Maria stood very still and lady-like, not daring to do anything that would mar this day for her tutor. She tried not to look too much at Robin during the ceremony; firstly, because when one must be very still and solemn, it is ever so much easier to break out in laughter, and one chance look shared between best friends can deal a tragic blow to the silence. Secondly, she tried not to look at Robin much because then she would start imagining a future wedding, which she knew would make her blush, and she did not want her cheeks to be inordinately red or to be distracted from the proceedings of the service.

Not that Robin would have noticed anyway. Being a young man, he had very little interest in the actual ceremony. He chose instead to watch the organist when he played, or to study the organ pipes, which were a fascinating array of gleaming metals. He did of course glance at Maria from time to time, but she seemed too invested in the wedding to notice him. She looked uncommonly pretty today. But then, she always looked prettiest when she was very happy. All people do.

Though Maria and Robin did not exchange many glances during the wedding, Lillian and Coeur De Noir certainly did. He simply couldn't help looking at her, and she, being so flattered by his gaze, couldn't help returning it. However, she did nothing more than look. She did not widen the soft smile on her lips, nor did she lift her eyebrows. This was her cousin's wedding, after all, and Cousin Jane must have her moment. Coeur De Noir seemed to get the hint after trying once or twice to communicate a message, and settled for the silent conversation of the eyes.

Loveday smiled broadly through the entire service. She was delighted that at last Miss Heliotrope had found true love—it never is an easy task—and this ceremony made her recall her own, another reason to smile. At the moment, she felt there was so much love and happiness and contentment in her, it seemed she could burst.

Sir Benjamin only concerned himself with standing straight for the entire ceremony without locking his knees. He had once locked his knees and almost fainted during a friend's wedding, and it was the most humiliating moment of his life. He had vowed never to repeat it.

When at last Digweed had kissed his bride, they filed out, stepping with muted giddiness. It had happened! Digweed and Miss Heliotrope were married! They reached the narthex, fell out of their orderly processional step, and fell to hugging one another fiercely and proclaiming congratulations. When every combination of people hugging had been made, they stood apart, took a collective breath of air, and smiled round at each other affably.

Then Miss Heliotrope and Digweed were to leave for their honeymoon. Maria found it almost ironic; the older couple was leaving to go have fun, while the younger people retired to the house to repose. They watched, waved, and shouted from the church steps as Digweed helped Miss Heliotrope up to the driver's seat before climbing up himself. When he settled back in the seat, took up the reins, and slid an arm around Miss Heliotrope's shoulders, he looked like a man who had finally found his place in the world.

Maria watched them drive down the street as far as she could. When she lost sight of them, she leaned into Robin with a sigh. He grinned.

"Princess, I love you, but it's bitter cold out, you're leaning into my injured shoulder, and this collar is digging into my spine. What say we go get the carriage and bring it round for the others so I can get home and change out of this thing?" Maria instantly stood up straight, apologized for leaning on his shoulder, and agreed to get the carriage, so they trudged down the steps and over to the little stable adjoining to the church. Presently they returned, and the adults squeezed into the carriage. Robin let Maria drive, since she was eager and he was exhausted. After all, the horses were more attentive to her light touch than they were to his.

"Princess, do we have to have a big wedding?"

The question caught Maria off guard, since they had only just begun to court. But the future he suggested was not one to which she was opposed.

"No, we can have a small wedding, like this one."

"This was a small wedding?"

"Usually there would be a congregation sitting in the pews."

" _What?_ "

"We would invite friends and family." She clucked to the team, and they picked up their hoofs. "That's what most people do. This was very small and private and sweet."

"I didn't realize weddings could be so big." He exhaled a cloud of frosty air. She laughed.

"They can be as large or as small as you want them to be. But let's not worry about that yet, shall we? We've got a little time yet. Unless you were planning to get married next week?"

"Maybe. What if you get tired of me and run away with some city boy next month?"

"Firstly, I would not get tired of you. Secondly, if you think I can run anywhere in these skirts, you're much mistaken. Thirdly, I've had my fill of stuck-up city boys, thank you very much." Robin looked a little consoled. "Plus," Maria added, a twinkle in her eye, "you could very easily just kill him off. You've got a very nice knife now."

"True," Robin acknowledged thoughtfully. "I'm so glad I have you to think of these things. What would I do without you?"

"Cry every day until you fell and shattered into a million glassy pieces to be scattered by the wind and blown into oblivion," Maria answered lightly. Robin blinked. She smiled sweetly over at him.

"Thank goodness I have you, then," he said.

"Yes indeed." She turned to kiss him, but found that she could not easily kiss him while keeping her attention on the road and the team. "Sorry. Occupational hazard." She shrugged, and went back to driving, leaving Robin to grumble good-naturedly.

Meanwhile, Miss Heliotrope and Digweed—pardon, Mr. and Mrs. Dogwood (Maria was shocked to learn that Digweed's surname was, in fact, Dogwood. She had never imagined him having any other name but Digweed.)—were rewarded with a priceless expression from the fat, lace-edged woman who ran the bed and breakfast.

And that, my good friends, was the perfect ending to the perfect day.

Dear readers,

I apologize for the delay. Life often comes in tidal waves, as you well know, and I had forgotten my giant inflatable swan float at home. Nevertheless, I am glad to have cranked this chapter out, and hope and pray to relay more of their story to you soon! Thank you for your continued reviews, especially those of you incredibly kind and dedicated people who have stuck with me through each update. Your patience is greatly appreciated.

Love,

Ponygirl7 :)


	58. Anger & Its Varied Faces

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Time did not drag in the tower nearly as much as it had, now that Jackie was also trapped. Ambrose was actually quite pleased he had inadvertently shut her in. It was something interesting, anyway. As long as he could keep up some small talk with her without causing her to go into a rage, he'd be all right. She was amusing, with her flying fists and snarling lips and sad, sad eyes. A little pitiful, but sad. Ambrose couldn't understand why she wasn't courting anybody; most boys weren't as picky as him. And she was pretty, even he couldn't deny that. But then, she had her heart set on Robin. Foolish girl. It didn't seem Robin's heart would be changing anytime soon. It was terribly pitiful, to know that she would keep loving someone even when she had no chance with him. Ambrose wasn't like that. He was practical. But usually, he got what he wanted. The little incident with Maria was an outlier, a rare exception that really shouldn't count.

"I said, we'd better split this." Her words jolted him from his sage contemplation. "I'm getting hungry, and I'll bet you are, too." She looked at him, expectation giving way to frustration. He looked down at the pie she held.

"I told you, I don't like sweet potato."

"I understand that, but you have to eat something. Remember, I was the one assigned to feed you."

"Right, but…sweet potato?" His lip curled in distaste. She looked steadily at him for a moment. He shrugged. Could he help it if he had a mature, discerning palate?

"Very well, you can starve." She dug into the sweet potato pie with a voracious readiness. He frowned, observing her.

"Don't they teach you manners at…servant maid training?" She didn't dignify that with a response. It was fortunate for him that she didn't. Well, he wanted to talk. "Say, now that there's two of us, why don't we look for a way out? It's bound to be easier with two people." She arched an eyebrow.

"Don't be too sure of that." She sat back against the wall, tossing the pie tin to the side. He was surprised she'd finished the pie so quickly. Actually, she looked a little less fierce, now that she'd had some food.

"Did you get breakfast?" he dared to ask.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was serving, you nincompoop. That's my job."

"Don't you get a day off? It is Christmas, after all. You could go home to your family."

"Someone has to work. Might as well be me."

"Well, I'd rather be home than work in a dirty kitchen."

"Don't let Dora hear you say her kitchen is dirty." Was that the faintest hint of a smile on Jackie's face? If he could get her to smile, things would go tremendously better. Ask about her work, her background. Girls like a gentleman who is interested in them. Did he still count as a gentleman?

"Well, you told the people in the kitchen that you were going home. Won't your family miss you?" Her eyes had been open and amused. Now they narrowed.

"You've got a terrible memory. If you remembered our picnic, you would've remembered that my uncle hates me."

"Right…right, but your parents? Or siblings, at least."

"They're dead." She looked at him strangely, devoid of anger or sadness. "I told you this. Merryweathers killed them. I told you this on our picnic. You don't remember." She shook her head, looking down. "I shouldn't have expected you to remember. You were only wanting to know if I was in my rich uncle's good graces." When he didn't respond—how does one respond?—she looked back up at him. "That was what you were wanting to know, wasn't it?"

"Yes." The truth sounded feeble, soggy. Maybe she had said something about her parents dying, whatever it was, he hadn't heard it. Well, he'd probably offered his condolences in a most charming way, then pressed further for information. He tried to turn his mind away from his past mistakes and on toward the present. "Then…your uncle won't miss you?"

"He'll be glad I'm gone. He won't question it." Well, that was lovely. Something occurred to him.

"The Merryweathers killed your family?"

"Are you deaf?"

"No, I just—" he broke off. He stared at her a minute too long. She crossed her arms.

"What?"

"How do you bear it?"

"What?"

"How do you bear it? You're in love with Robin for some reason, and he up and courts a girl whose family killed yours. Aren't you the least bit angry?" She cocked her head.

"What do you think, Ambrose?" Her voice was a little sing-songy. "Do you think I'm a little angry?" She widened her eyes. "What cause would I have for anger, in this rich, beautiful life I have, serving prisoners and getting my heart ripped out every day? Why in the world would I be angry, when I've been relieved of my parents and haven't a care in the world? Tell me, Ambrose, what do you think?" Her voice trembled at the end, and her eyes were shining a little too brightly. She was probably a girl who did not cry, but that did not mean she was incapable of producing tears. Ambrose shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the floor. Finally he said,

"I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"I'm sure you didn't mean to upset me," Jackie sighed, and smiled oddly at him. "You don't really mean to make anyone feel anything. You don't really think about how your words or actions will affect other people." Oh, brother. Now she was on about this again.

"Listen, I'm sorry, and I told you I was sorry, but you don't want me to court you now anyway, so just let it drop—"

"Do you think I'm angry just because you left me?" Jackie chuckled now, which almost frightened him. She was off her rocker. "You sure do have a high opinion of yourself. No. I cried my fair share when you left. I'm still angry. But I've suffered worse. I am suffering worse. No, I'm angry because you left a great deal of girls brokenhearted. And not all of them have the same fortitude I do. I'm all right, you see?" She waved a hand under her pretty face. "Fine. Peachy. But there are other girls much more delicate and tender than I. And you hurt them all something fierce."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

"That's my point exactly." She nodded. "I'd like you to promise me before I leave, that you will not undertake in any more of these ambitious matches. Let someone fall in love with you. Don't ensnare them. I've learned that some things can't be forced, and love is one of them." She squared her jaw. "Ambrose, leave the heart-breaking behind. There's enough of that in this world already."

Ambrose swallowed. What was he to say? He could always make the promise now and break it, he supposed. But now just thinking that seemed flimsy. Oh, no. What was happening to him? He had to be flexible. If he let his moral character grow rigid, there was no going back. No more fun, no more flirtations. If that happened…oh, but it was happening! Blast the girl. What was she doing? What was this room doing to him? He was going mad.

"Well?" She waited.

"All right," he said hurriedly. "I won't—I won't do any more of—of that." She blinked, smiled a little, and then began to run her hands through her hair, taking it out of its braids.

"I'm glad," she said quietly, rising to her feet. "Well, I think you'll keep your promise." Even as she said the words, he knew he would. Confound it. What was happening? She hesitated, looking at him a moment, then said, "Thank you." She walked to the door and slipped something in the lock.

He sprang from his seat.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

He rushed over to her just as he heard something click. Confused as he was, he knew he couldn't let her just leave. Then everything would be dull again. In a fit of brashness, he pinned her arms against the door. She struggled a little, but she seemed resigned.

"You could leave this whole time?"

"A girl's hairpin works for almost any lock in the region," she said matter of factly, fingers tapping against the wooden door. His grip loosened.

"Then why—"

"If you'll be kind enough to remember, my parents are dead, and my uncle hates me. Why would I go home on Christmas? I thought I could do some good for the prisoner." Her eyes twinkled unexpectedly. "And I think I did." Thoughts, possibilities rushed through Ambrose's mind. He acted on one of them.

He slid his hand down to hers, snatching the hairpin from her grasp. She studied him, and at this close proximity, her piercing brown eyes sliced though his.

"You have the key, Ambrose. What will you do? Think long and hard about it."

A/N: Dear reader,

No, this story isn't finished. I promise, you'll know when it is. We still have a couple loose ends to tie up. Thank you for your continued reviews! Please tell me what you think about Ambrose & Jackie. I really appreciate your opinion, and believe it or not, it helps drive the story. Love to all those who have stayed with me. Happy reading!

Your

Ponygirl7


	59. Complexities

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

Ambrose's fingers grew sweaty around the hairpin. Freedom was within his grasp. If he left, he would have to run. Leave Moonacre, leave the countryside. He would be free, but at what cost?

Jackie watched him, but she did not struggle against him. She made no effort to free her wrist from his grip, or to push him off of her. She seemed keenly interested in this decision he would have to make. He tried to meet her eyes, but her gaze was too strong for him. He averted his gaze to her lips, which was not very helpful. He felt a strong and sudden urge to kiss her. She must have seen this strange hunger in his eyes.

"You promised," she whispered. Her words jolted him out of an unexpected reverie.

"I promised," he echoed hollowly. He cleared his throat, stepping back. His fingers slid from hers, releasing her. "I promised." He squared his jaw in resentment. "Why in the world did I promise you that." Her eyebrows lifted in amusement.

"It was a moment of weakness." His shoulders slumped, defeated. Then the quiet words: "And I like you better for it." He dared to look up. "Well," she amended, shrugging, "I hate you slightly less."

"She hates me slightly less."

"Yes," her voice was stronger now, "I cannot lie and say that I like you; you've done too much for me to like you."

"Listen, I'm sorry—"

"No, you're not," she corrected, "not now. Probably at some point, hopefully soon, but not now."

"All right, then, what happens now? What do you think I will do?"

"What do you think I think you'll do?"

He paused, replaying her words slowly in his head.

"I think…I think you think I'll knock you out or something and leave."

"No."

"No?" He seemed surprised. She smirked.

"No. You don't have enough backbone for that."

"Are you calling me a coward?"

"Most definitely." It was matter-of-fact.

"Then since you're so smart, what do you think I'm going to do?" He hitched his thumbs in his belt-loops.

"I think you are going to either going to let me leave without a struggle, or you will force me to knock _you_ out so that I can leave."

"You think you could knock me out?" He chuckled. She eyed him appraisingly.

"I don't think it'd take much." She leaned forward, away from the door, widening her stance. Her brown eyes were shrewd and unruffled and unfairly pretty. He was at a disadvantage. She was obviously not attracted to him, but he was not quite so immune to her charms.

"Well—well what if I swallow the hairpin? Or do you have more hairpins in your hair?" He looked at her hair suspiciously. She frowned.

"I may or may not have more hairpins, but why on earth would you swallow a hairpin? You might die."

"I'll admit that was a more poorly conceived plan than most," he conceded, "but—"

"You're stalling."

"…yes."

"That's cowardly." He crossed his arms.

"Now how is stalling cowardly?" She took a few steps toward him. Her footfalls were almost menacing. She looked straight up at him.

"You're afraid of consequences. Ambrose, you're so afraid." He blinked. "You're afraid of being poor." She took another step. "You're afraid for your reputation. You're afraid for your looks." She stepped closer. "You're afraid of boredom and responsibility and integrity and…and love." Her voice had been valiantly confident until the last word. She watched the emotions ripple on his face. "Or maybe—maybe you're afraid of love because you don't know how to love." She cocked her head sadly. "No one ever taught you." He tried very hard to get his thoughts under control.

"What are—love—love isn't something you are taught. What are you talking about?"

"Oh, it's taught," she assured him. "I was young when my parents died, but they taught me how to love. Love means sacrifice. It means unselfishness. You need to care about someone else more than yourself. And you, Ambrose—you don't know how to do that."

He froze. She slipped her hand into his and withdrew, taking her hairpin. He watched her do it, unresponsive. She took a long look at him, then turned to go.

"Why can't you teach me?" The words came out in a rush. She turned back.

"What?"

"Why can't you teach me? Teach me—teach me to love." He ended hoarsely. Merely saying this took an inordinate amount of bravery (or perhaps stupidity) on his part.

"You can't be serious."

"I'm rarely serious. This is an unusual moment for me, Jackie, and it won't last long. If you ever loved me—"

"I never loved you, Ambrose. I liked you."

"You like me now."

"I never said that. I said I hated you slightly less. There's a difference."

"How big of a difference?" She rolled her eyes.

"You're stalling again."

"Because I don't want you to go."

"Why, because you love me?"

"No," he struggled to find the words, "no, I don't, but—but I think I'd like to. If you could help me." She smiled sadly at him, and her voice trembled.

"Ambrose—just because I know _how_ to love doesn't mean I can do it." She turned. "Not well, anyway." She would not let him see her cry. She would not.

"Well, that's not true. You love Robin, right? And you love him enough to let him be with Maria, if that's what he wants."

"No, that's just an example of me being cowardly." She chuckled drily, hugging her arms. "And it's really just me living in spite towards Maria and obsession over Robin without any legitimate claim on him." She grew quieter. "I don't even know if love was involved, come to think of it. Not really." She bit her lip. She'd never said this much to anyone. Exposing the soul this much could be dangerous, and they both knew it.

A minute passed, and in it, a million thoughts. Finally Ambrose broke the silence.

"Look at us." He ran a hand through his dark hair. "Two broken people." She took a deep breath.

"But one with a key." She turned back towards him. "Broken or not, it is Christmas." Her eyes began to gleam again. "Let's do something."

"Are you saying you'll let me out of this dungeon?"

"You must stay with me at all times; I don't want to get into trouble."

"Don't have to tell me twice." He beamed at her and was rewarded with a little smile. Oh, it would take some determined self control to keep him from kissing her.

"All right, then, criminal, follow me."

A/N: Beloved reader,

Thank you for continuing to read! I hope I have not disappointed you. Ambrose and Jackie are a little more complex than I would like, for it'd be so easy to just have them quickly fall in love and smack 'The End' on this story, but I don't think that would do them justice. Please let me know what you think, either of these characters, their relationship, or the story in general. I look forward to your responses!

Your

Ponygirl7


	60. Broken Glass

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"Where are we going?" Ambrose's footfalls echoed Jackie's as he plunged after her into the dark staircase.

"Somewhere beautiful," she said resolutely, taking quick, even steps. Then she paused, and he nearly ran into her. "We're going to need coats." She glanced back at him. "We're going to take a slight detour."

"Anything's better than the cell." She looked at him for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to say something. She decided not to, and turned back round to continue. They came out into the open village, and Jackie led the way over the trampled snow, both shivering. She dodged in and out of small hovels, finally coming to one of the fine stone house. Outside the door, she paused to catch her breath, puffing out clouds into the frigid air.

"My uncle's house," she explained, staring at the door. "I'm going to sneak in and get coats. I imagine he's drunk by now, so I should be able to get in and out without notice." She put a hand on the doorknob, and without lifting her gaze, said, "If I don't come out, just go. I'll be fine." Then she swiftly opened the door and slipped inside, leaving Ambrose to wonder at her words.

He waited nearly a minute, getting more and more agitated. What had she meant? Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good. He jogged in place to stay warm. When she didn't reappear after another minute, Ambrose became worried. Which, come to think of it, was odd, since he'd only really known her a short while. Nevertheless, he did not want to abandon her now. He'd already left her once. So, against her warning, Ambrose opened the door.

The front room, a sort of sitting room, was very well furnished. Deep mahogany wood, a sturdy mantle decorated with various expensive trinkets, and a set of elegant chairs graced the room. However, a layer of broken glass on the floor (was that a liquor bottle label?) and a thick haze of smoke left no doubt that this was not a gentleman's home. Despite this, Ambrose did not dwell on it long. Shouts came from a room further back, and one of the voices was definitely Jackie's.

Ambrose darted back down a short hallway to what appeared to be the kitchen. The door was half open, and a male voice barked,

"—supposed to be working today, but what do I find the ungrateful wench—"

"I'm not ungrateful, I've nothing to be grateful for! I'm the one earning the money, and I'm not the one who spends it! I'm only—"

"—barely earning money at all, seems as if you could do more, if you have enough time to be gallivanting all over—"

"I'm not gallivanting, and I just needed coats—"

"Oh, coats, is it, eh? Who else you got, hm? Best not be a gentleman unless he's intending to marry you and has lots of money—"

"It's none of your business who, and if you don't let me through—"

"Ah, right, how could I be so foolish? Thinking someone'd want to marry you, what a notion."

"You have no right to insult me—"

"Those're my coats, and you're not taking them anywhere—"

"They're my coats, I paid for them—"

"I'm the one giving you a home here darling, so you'd best watch your manners—"

"Just let me through—oh! Let me—let me go—" her voice rose in desperation. Ambrose bounded through the door. Jackie's uncle, a burly man, held her fists tight, but he dropped them in alarm when he saw Ambrose. Jackie tensed.

"Sir, I don't think it's very gentlemanly to hold a lady captive," Ambrose said, hoping he sounded braver than he felt. Jackie's uncle blinked and squinted. Then his face broadened in recognition.

"Ah, you would know all about gentlemanly things, wouldn't you there? I know you, you're the sly fox out for a good catch." He leaned forward and burped. "Well, let me tell you a thing: it don't work if she dies. All down the drain. Gotta rely on a wench for the coins." He rolled his eyes and gestured back at Jackie. "But I've some faith in you yet, you're a handsome thing, can do what you like. You've ambition, you have." He nodded sagely. "Gets you far in life. You and me, we're on the same team. 'Course, you'll do better than I did. Get one that won't die. That's the trick."

Ambrose had been rather paralyzed with shock until now, not quite understanding. Now it clicked, and a wave of anger and shame crashed down on him. This man married for money. His wife died. He now relied on Jackie for income. And he thought Ambrose had the same ambitions. Well, he wasn't wrong. Until recently, Ambrose had considered marrying for money to be the wisest option. Now…now he felt almost ashamed to have considered it. He squared his jaw.

"We are not on the same team, sir. Now you will let Jackie pass without any trouble."

"Oh, I will? And who's you to decide that? I'm her guardian, legal and all. You've no say in how I handle her." He crossed his beefy arms. Ambrose knew he could not win in a fight. But he couldn't back down.

"She is a lady, and ladies deserve respect," he said firmly.

"Oh ho, this coming from you? Don't think so, no, you're not the Ambrose I've heard about."

"Let her pass."

"Uh, no."

"Very well." Ambrose shrugged. "Jackie, come on through. Bring the coats." She looked at him like he was crazy, but she gathered up the coats and began to pass by her uncle. Just as the man reached to grab her, Ambrose jumped on his back and hauled his large arms backward, momentarily stunning him. Jackie stared in disbelief.

"Go, quickly," Ambrose sputtered. She ran. Her uncle turned and slammed his back against a cabinet, sending Ambrose's head solidly into the glass.

Something cracked. For better or for worse, it was the glass that had cracked, and not Ambrose's head. The man could not reach around to get Ambrose off his back, so he thrust his back into another cabinet. Ambrose's head crashed through the glass, sending shards flying through the air.

Blast the man, Ambrose's head hurt. But he had to do something. Looking frantically around, he saw that one of the cabinets he'd broken held shelves of glass beer bottles. The man staggered madly around the kitchen, banging his opponent into first a solid wooden wall, and then a stone wall.

Ambrose gathered his wits, though his head ached immensely. He reached out, and as they neared the beer cabinet, he grabbed a beer, slicing his arm on an evil bit of glass.

Mustering whatever strength he had, Ambrose brought the bottle down upon the man's head with a crash.

Like a felled tree, the man stood motionless for a moment, then collapsed cleanly on the floor. Ambrose fell with him, for he did not have the reflexes at the moment to leap off. Ambrose stayed on the floor a bit, wondering if he would perhaps die right there. His head was surely no longer the shape it had been. Blood ran glistening down his arms. Just the sight of it made him sick. But there was Jackie to consider. Ambrose closed his eyes. He had to get up. He had to get out of there, and he had to find Jackie. Then, a terrible thought: what if he'd killed her uncle?

Ambrose knew he should check for a pulse. He didn't have the energy. But he needed to. Trying to ignore the pain radiating from his head, Ambrose lifted himself to a sitting position, took a few deep breaths, then searched for a pulse on the man's wrist. Well, he was alive. Ambrose was not a murderer. He hung his head in relief.

A few hesitant footsteps sounded in the hallway.

"Jackie?" He managed to say. The footsteps sounded like hers. More followed, very quickly. She stood in the doorway, wide eyed.

Then she became very blurry.

Then everything was black.

A/N: My dear reader,

Poor Ambrose. Two fights in three days. But very different fights, wouldn't you say? Or what would you say? Please let me know in your reviews; I await them with bated breath!

Love,

Ponygirl7


	61. Fleeing Yesterday

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"Ambrose? Ambrose, come on."

"My head…" Ambrose blinked several times. His head throbbed mercilessly. He was able to make out Jackie's features as she knelt anxiously over him.

"Ambrose, we've got to go before he wakes up. Come on."

"That _hurt_ , blast it." He sat up shakily.

"I know, I know, but we've got to get away. If my uncle wakes up, I don't…he'll…" she stared at the unconscious man on the floor. Then her eyes snapped back to Ambrose. "We've got to go." He sighed, then groaned.

"Right." He hauled himself to his feet. So this was how it felt, to be injured. He'd never experienced such pain. Like little flames scorching his skin. Little daggers being driven in to the bone. Every time he moved, every time he breathed. His head was surely cracked somewhere. Blood ran in rivers down his arms. Jackie's only concern seemed to be getting away; did she not notice his pain? He wished she would express some sympathy, at least.

Jackie did indeed notice his pain, and she felt wretched about it. He wouldn't have gotten hurt if it weren't for her. But it had been his choice to help her get away—a choice which puzzled her immensely. Never had anyone been so noble, so brave for her. Not even Robin. And she had called Ambrose a coward…perhaps there was more to him than appeared. But now was not the time to dwell on it. If her uncle woke up, Ambrose would not be able to beat him twice, and Jackie was not nearly as strong. So she helped Ambrose into a coat and led him from the house.

"We need Coeur De Noir," Ambrose managed to say, once they were in the cold, clean street.

"What for?" She eyed him, troubled.

"You can't live like that, with your uncle. Coeur De Noir can keep him away from you." Her eyes softened at the earnestness in his expression.

"That's a lovely thought; but he's all the family I have. It wouldn't be right to leave him." Ambrose looked hard at her.

"I'll tell you what's not right. He's perfectly capable of working, but he doesn't, so he makes you work, and takes your money, and gets drunk with it. That's not right." He pulled his coat tighter around him. "I'm not an expert on right and wrong, but even I know some things. And you shouldn't have to live like that."

Jackie gazed up at him wonder. The way he put it, it sounded so right. So easy. But was it really? And, she reminded herself, this was Ambrose, who was supposed to be in his cell. Was he only looking for a way of escape? She hesitated. Then she saw the blood stains on his temple and his dark brow bent in determination. She breathed in the cold air.

"Let's go."

They made their way up to the stables.

"Hello? Anybody here?" Jackie called. The pattering of footsteps replied. A boy's face popped out from behind a bale of hay. "Theodore! Good to see you! Would you mind—"

"Blimey! Isn't that the boy who—"

"Theodore, he helped me." Jackie said quickly. "He's good. He won't hurt me." She didn't dare look back at Ambrose. She hoped that by her saying this, it would somehow make it true. "We need…" now she looked back at Ambrose and took in the bloody sight. "We need a sleigh. Can you prepare one?" Theodore still looked a little wary. Nevertheless, he replied,

"One horse or two?"

"Just one'll do the trick, thanks." She gave him a smile. He was, after all, the son of one of her coworkers. A cute kid. But…she walked after him as he marched toward a stall. "Theodore, please don't tell anyone about this; not yet. I know Ambrose is supposed to be in a cell, but he's helping me, and he won't run. We're going to see Coeur De Noir about something important. Promise you won't tell?" Theodore's eyes grew round as saucers. He looked past her down the barn hall. Then a whispered

"Okay."

The sleigh was ready promptly. Jackie knew the basics of driving a horse, though she was not particularly good at it. Still, Ambrose was in no shape to drive, so it fell to her. They settled into the small sleigh, gave an earnest thanks to Theodore, and set off. Ambrose grunted with each jostling the low sleigh received, but they went along swiftly enough. The cold bit their faces as they gained speed, but Jackie would not slow down, not while she still had her nerve. It was about time she did this. She couldn't let anyone else get hurt.

She cast a sidelong glance at Ambrose, who looked absolutely miserable, thought admittedly more appealing with a roughened look than his usual slick charm. He had always been so composed and cool and in control, and she'd hated him for it. Hated him for controlling other people's lives and emotions. But now he was battered and vulnerable and raw. And she liked him all the better for it.

"I'm sorry about your injuries," she said, which was an understatement. "Do you hurt very much?"

"Yes. Very much." She waited for him to say more, but he would not. She trained her eyes on the horse.

"I'd be willing to bet that was the first noble thing you've ever done in your life." He only chuckled raspily.

"I wouldn't call that noble."

"I would."

He averted his gaze to meet hers, and found something unexpectedly warm in her usually fierce eyes. She opened her mouth a little, but no words followed. Ambrose frowned a little, engaged in a mental struggle. She was too pretty. It was too much.

"Whoaaa! Whoa, you!" A female voice sang out. Jackie quickly reined in her horse, narrowly avoiding a collision with a carriage. A male voice bellowed,

"Watch where you're going, you—wha—Ambrose?" The carriage jerked to a stop and two figures dashed off the driver's seat and over to Jackie and Ambrose's sleigh. "Just where do you think you're going?" Robin asked, towering over them.

A/N: Dear reader,

Thank you for reading! And if you've come upon this soon after my updating, merry Christmas! I apologize for the delay [due to the demands of life] and encourage you to review; what are your thoughts on Jackie or Ambrose, or Jackie _and_ Ambrose? How do you think Robin and Maria will react? Do you not like this story at all? Do let me know.

Wishing you a right jolly day,

Ponygirl7


	62. Finding You Can Change

**A Moonacre Fanfiction Peace on Earth**

"We needed to find you," Jackie explained hastily, squirming under Robin's gaze, "well, not you, but your father—"

"What happened to you?" Maria directed this question toward Ambrose, who looked like an uncomfortable cornered cat.

"He—he helped me," Jackie broke in, defending him, "Saved me, actually. That's what I wanted…that's what I wanted to…" She trailed off. How could she explain it? She was betraying her own flesh and blood. It couldn't be right. Uncle had always told her that he was all the family she had. It was true. How could she give up on the man who'd given her a home?

"It's her uncle," Ambrose explained. "He can't be taking care of her anymore." Maria looked from Jackie to Ambrose, copper curls blowing across her confused expression.

"I don't understand. Why are you all bloody? What happened?" Both looked reluctant to share information. Why, Maria couldn't tell. She huffed, pulling her coat closer around her. "Let's continue this conversation at the manor." She took a long look at Ambrose before saying, "You ride up on the carriage with me. It'll be much less bumpy for you. Robin, can you drive her in the sleigh?" Robin did not look at all pleased with her suggestion. Perhaps because he had an aversion to this serving maid, though it was more likely he didn't want Ambrose anywhere near Maria. Nevertheless, Maria's eyes told him she would not stand for an argument right now.

"Of course." Though it went against every bone in his body to do so, Robin offered his hand to help Ambrose up. Ambrose warily accepted. He then climbed up on the carriage, and Robin settled into the sleigh. Maria started off on the carriage, and it sped on down the road. Robin reached for the reins, but Jackie held on to them.

"Thanks, but I'd rather do it myself." It'd give her something to do. She tried to keep her voice from shaking, remembering the last time she'd seen Robin. How she'd dreamed of situations like this: alone in the woods with him. But something was different now. Now she wasn't sure what she wanted.

He grunted in reply, still a little miffed with Maria. Well, maybe she'd been anticipating Ambrose's trying to escape, and that was why she'd split him and Jackie up? He didn't know. But what was Jackie doing with Ambrose anyway? Wasn't he supposed to be locked up?

"Did he escape?" Robin finally asked.

"Ambrose? No. I let him out." She looked straight ahead.

"Why?" She paused.

"Well…it's Christmas."

"And he stabbed me."

"He didn't mean to! I mean, I know he's a coward, but he wouldn't hurt someone on purpose. He probably just saw it as self defense."

"You have a high opinion of him," Robin noted, eying her shrewdly.

"Not really. That is, not until…he's not entirely bad. Just lazy. And greedy, I think. But I also think he could change."

"Hm." Robin wasn't so sure. But looking at her determined expression reminded him of the last time he'd seen her. He'd danced with her recklessly, influenced by spite and alcohol. He ought to apologize, give an explanation.

"Listen, I don't know about Ambrose. But I…at the ball, I wasn't…" How to put it delicately? "I was drunk. I shouldn't have behaved the way I did. I shouldn't have danced so much with you. Not that—I mean—you're a good dancer. But before—Maria—"

"I think I understand." She said quietly. Her insides ached with a hollow pain she couldn't quite understand. "I understand." A wave of rashness overtook her. "Do you know that I loved you for years?" Had she really just said that? Red peeked up into her cheeks, but she couldn't stop just then. "Dreamed about you constantly. I resented Maria." She glanced at him. "Don't look like that; I don't now. Which is strange. Strange how people can change. I guess that's what I'm saying. If I can change, why can't Ambrose?"

"I'm not the best at these things," Robin began slowly, "but I would hazard a guess that Ambrose had something to do with this change of yours." Her grip tightened on the reins. Well, there was no denying it. Not to him, or to herself.

"Yes, I think so." They pulled up to the manor. Robin tied up the sleigh and then led Jackie inside. Everyone was gathered in the front room, waiting. Ambrose was seated on a small couch, looking intensely ill at ease. His expression cleared when he saw Jackie. She saw next to him, feeling very much as though she were in an interrogation. Which, in a sense, she was.

"Now then," Coeur De Noir spoke up with authority, "tell us what happened."

And they told him. They took turns, though they did leave out some things that seemed irrelevant and a little private. When it came to the encounter with Jackie's uncle, Lillian and Loveday gasped in horror. Maria reached out and took Robin's hand. She knew Coeur De Noir had not always been kind to his son.

When Jackie and Ambrose finished, everyone held their breath, waiting for Coeur De Noir to respond. And, at length, he did.

"I will deal with him accordingly." Coeur De Noir stared at the carpet, not meeting Jackie's eyes. "And I shall find you another place to stay. That kind of behavior cannot be tolerated. As for setting Ambrose free—" he looked up, but his gaze came to rest on Lillian. He swallowed. "As for setting Ambrose free, I cannot condone that behavior either. He is a criminal, and he was serving part of his sentence." Jackie tensed. "However," he went on, still looking at Lillian, "his role in assisting you against your uncle was…mildly heroic." He raised a doubtful eyebrow in Ambrose's direction. "You've proved to have some moral fibers in your being. I am removing you from your cell. You shall still learn a trade, but we will settle that later." Coeur De Noir saw Lillian smile at him. He tried to keep from smiling back; he had to maintain a stern profile before this young criminal. But his attempts to suppress this beaming only resulted in a strange looking expression which made Lillian chuckle. That in turn made him blush scarlet.

"Right. Thank you, sir," Maria interjected, grinning a little. "Robin and I will sort everything out. Why don't you go enjoy some music?"

"Yes," Loveday added brightly, "I've found some new sheet music for you to try, Lillian." The adults filed out, albeit a bit hesitantly on the gentlemen's part.

"You ought to be glad my father's in a good mood," Robin said. He had to admit, Ambrose had showed a little more courage than Robin would have liked; he had been determined to dislike him. It would've been easy, since the boy did stab him with a dagger. But now, regrettably, Robin had reason to think well of him. It was frustrating.

"Come to the kitchen," Maria said, already leading the way. "Marmaduke is taking his break. We'll clean you up." Jackie and Ambrose stood. Robin waited for them to follow Maria, then brought up the rear. Odd, how things had changed in the last few days.

A/N: Dear readers,

My goodness, I'm so pleased you've come this far with me! We're beginning to wrap things up, just so you know. My guess is, you'd figured that much out. Please tell me what you think. I'm not really sure how I feel about this story at the moment; help me decide, will you? I have a general plan for conclusion, but tell me if there's something you want to see happen. Thank you for your constant support and many reviews!

Your

Ponygirl7


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